LIBRARY  OF  PRINCETON 


MAY   1  2  2C04 


THEOLOGICAL  SEMINARY 


DOMESTIC  PORTEAITUEE 


OR,    THE    SUCCESSFUL 


APPLICATION  OF  RELIGIOUS  PRINCIPLE 


EDUCATION   OF   A   FAMILY 


EXEMPLIKIED    IN    THE 


MEMOIRS  OF  THREE  OF  THE  DECEASED  CHILDREN 


REV.    LEGH    RICHMOND 


WITH    A    FEW 

INTRODUCTURY  REMARKS  ON  CHRISTIAN  EDUCATION, 

BY    THE   REV.    E.    B  IC  KER  STETIJ , 

RECTOR  OF  WATTON,  HISTS. 


NEW    YORK: 

ROBERT    CARTER    &    BROTHERS 
No.    28  5    BR.OADWAY. 

1849. 


mTRODUCTORY  REMARKS 


CHRISTIAN    EDUCATION 


BY  THE  REV.  E.  BICKERSTETH, 

RECTOR  OF  WATTON,  HERTS. 


The  addition  of  the  ''Domestic  Portraiture"  to  the 
Christian's  Family  Library,  has  been  considered  a  favora- 
ble opportunity  for  prefixing  a  few  remarks  on  Christian 
education, — a  most  important  part  of  every  parent's  duty, 
and  the  root  of  innumerable  future  blessings.  In  doing 
this,  the  Editor  hopes,  in  some  measure,  to  concentrate 
within  a  short  compass,  the  many  truly  valuable  exhorta- 
tions and  pressing  entreaties  to  his  children,  by  his  re- 
vered and  beloved  friend,  Mr.  Richmond,  which  this  vol- 
ume contains. 

It  is  common  to  hear  complaints,  that  the  children  of 
pious  parents  disappoint  the  expectations  Avhich  are  usu- 
ally, and  not  unnaturally  formed ;  and  it  is  true  that  this 
is  too  often  the  case ;  and  that  in  some  instances  children 
piously  educated,  will,  when  they  break  through  the 
restraints  of  education  and  habit,  become  excessively 
wicked  ;  and  they  may  even,  like  Eli's  and  David's  chil- 
dren, perish  in  their  wickedness.  In  these  extreme  cases, 
there  has  probably  been  either  some  serious  neglect  of 
parental  duty,  or  the  formation  of  unhappy  connections 
with  others ;  at  least  every  Christian  parent  is  dumb  be- 


Vm  INTRODUCTORY    REMARKS 

fore  God  under  such  awful  dispensations,  and  is  feelingly 
alive  to  the  conviction  of  his  own  sinfulness. 

But,  after  all,  the  mass  of  Christian  piety  in  a  country 
will  be  found  to  be  in  the  generation  of  the  pious  ;  and 
though  God  shows  his  own  sovereignty  in  raising  up, 
sometimes,  an  eminent  instrument  of  good  from  among 
the  most  wicked,  he  also  shows  the  riches  and  the  faith- 
fulness of  his  OAvn  promises  :  "  The  generation  of  the  up- 
right is  blessed  ;  Train  up  a  child  in  the  way  he  should  go, 
and  when  he  is  old  he  loill  not  dejjart  from  it.'''' 

It  may  be  useful  briefly  to  notice  some  causes  of  want 
of  success,  and  also  to  touch  upon  the  means  of  a  suc- 
cessful Christian  education. 

In  considering  the  causes  of  want  of  success  we  must 
first  notice  the  disregard  of  one  of  the  most  important 
religious  principles,  a  due  knowledge  of  which  lies  at  the 
root  of  all  success  in  this  Avork — that  all  children  are  by 
nature  born  in  sin,  and  the  children  of  wrath :  that  they 
inherit  from  their  parents  a  carnal  mind,  which  is  enmity 
against  God.  However  pious  the  parent,  his  nature  is 
corrupt,  and  descends  to  his  children.  From  us  they 
derive  that  nature,  and  all  success  in  education  musl 
be  owing  to  God  blessing  our  efforts,  and  giving  them 
His  grace,  that  they  may  gain  dominion  over  their  natu- 
ral and  imbred  corruption.  The  Christian  parent  wil) 
ever  be  watchful  to  detect  the  workings  of  this  corruption, 
even  in  those  things  which  may  appear  to  the  eye  of  the 
world  pleasing  and  delightful.  That  alone  which  is  the 
fruit  of  the  Spirit,  that  alone  which  is  superior  to  na- 
ture, will  satisfy  him.  Whilst  he  will  forward  and  culti- 
vate whatever  is  lovely,  and  of  good  report,  he  will  be, 
above  all,  anxious  that  everything  of  this  kind  should 
proceed  from  Christian  principle,  and  not  from  the  mere 
love  of  human  praise. 

The  indvdgence  of  parents,  proceeding  from  an  idolatry 


ON    CHRISTIAN    EDUCATION.  IX 

of  their  children,  is  one  of  the  most  common  sources  of 
ill-success.  This  was  the  ruin  of  Eli's  and  of  David's 
children,  and  it  is  a  cause  which  is  constantly  operating 
in  a  vast  variety  of  forms,  such  as  indulgence  in  appetite^ 
in  dress,  in  pleasures,  in  yielding  to  any  obviously  im- 
proper requests,  and  in  seeking  rather  to  gratify  their 
present  wishes  than  to  secure  their  future,  their  spiritual, 
and  their  highest  good. 

The  inconsistencies  of  Christian  parents  in  their  con- 
duct and  conversation,  have  a  most  pernicious  influence 
orer  their  children.  The  Spirit  of  the  world — the  lust 
of  the  fiesh,  the  lust  of  the  eye,  and  the  p'ide  of  life — man- 
ifested by  a  parent,  are  eagerly  and  most  naturally  im- 
bibed by  children.  They  are  creatures  of  imitation  in  all 
things,  but  they  have  a  natural  aptitude  in  imitating 
whatever  is  wrong.  The  bad  tempers,  the  haughtiness, 
the  self-will  of  the  parents  are  very  soon  indeed  copied 
by  the  child.  Their  admiration  of  riches,  or  rank,  or 
talent,  naturally  engenders  similar  inordinate  views  and 
feelings  in  their  children.  Thus  our  sins  punish  us  in  our 
oifspring. 

Improper  connections  which  children  are  allowed  to 
form  with  others,  whether  of  a  similar  or  of  a  superior 
age,  but  especially  of  the  latter,  often  ruin  the  best  laid 
plans  for  education.  Children  are  so  soon  captivated  by 
delusive  and  specious  appearances  of  superior  wisdom, 
leading  them  to  despise  others,  and  by  the  vain  promises 
of  liberty  and  pleasure,  that  one  evening  spent  amidst  the 
fascinations  of  worldly  society  may  unsettle  and  perma- 
nently injure  their  young  and  inexperienced  minds. 

Amid  the  common  complaints  of  want  of  success  in 
the  bringing  up  of  children,  complaints  which  are  often 
heard  from  Christian  parents, — it  is  pleasant  to  contem- 
plate those  instances  which  sometimes  occur,  as  in 
the   families   of   Mr.   Richmond,  Mr.  Scott,   and  others 


X  INTRODUCTORY   REMARKS 

which  might  be  named,  where  results  more  gratifying  have 
been  realized. 

The  inquiry  is  most  interesting  and  most  important, 
whence  arises  the  difference  ? 

A  customary  resource  for  consolation  and  almost  for 
justification  in  cares  of  an  unhappy  description  is  the  doc- 
trine of  the  sovereignty  of  God. 

Often,  however,  this  great  and  awful  doctrine  is  brought 
in  as  a  cover  to  parental  neglect,  when  it  would  be  just  as 
reasonable  to  assign  it  as  an  excuse  for  exposing  your  child 
to  a  pestilence,  or  for  leaving  him  in  sickness  without 
medical  aid. 

The  cases  above  alluded  to,  and  others  quite  numerous 
enough  to  form  a  rule,  and  not  an  exception,  show,  that 
when  certain  means  are  used,  the  answering  results  may 
be  expected  to  follow  ;  and  that  the  failure  of  the  parents' 
hopes,  may  generally  be  traced  to  their  own  deficiency  in 
conduct. 

In  speaking  however  of  means, — a  word  perliaps  in- 
adequate,— it  is  desirable  to  use  that  word  in  its  utmost 
extent ;  to  look  upon  it  not  merely  as  comprehending  a 
certain  routine  of  duties,  but  as  embracing  the  whole  ob- 
ligation of  the  parent  to  the  child. 

And  the  first  and  main  oblio^ation  is — love.  It  is  to 
be  feared  that  the  real  root  of  the  miischief  of  which  we 
are  speaking,  little  as  it  may  be  suspected,  lies  in  a  defi- 
ciency here. 

Parents  ascribe  the  loss  of  their  children  to  God's  not 
having  willed  otherwise  ;  when,  perhaps,  it  would  be  much 
nearer  the  truth  to  say  that  they  themselves  have  not 
willed  otherwise. 

They  are  wanting  in  a  deep  sense  of  the  real  worth 
and  danger  of  their  children's  souls.  They  wish  and 
hope  that  they  may  be  serious,  good,  and  religious ;  but 
it  is  a  sort  of  faint,  ineffectual  wish,  not  that  ardent  de- 


ON    CHRISTIAN    EDUCATION.  XI 

sire,  that  unceasing  anxiety  -svhich  filled  Mr.  Richmond*s 
mind ;  not  that  love  which  made  St.  Paul  exclaim,  "  My 
little  children,  of  whom  I  travail  in  hirth  again,  till  Christ 
be  formed  in  you." 

From  these  feeble  hopes  and  languid  wishes  flow  cold 
and  formal  prayers,  offered  as  a  duty,  not  as  the  inmost 
desire  of  the  soul.  There  is  no  wrestling  for  the  children 
with  the  "I  will  not  let  thee  go  except  thou  bless  me," 
of  Augustine's  mother.  Nor  are  there  the  prayers  of 
faith  ;  nor  can  they  be  expected  to  bring  down  blessings ; 
since  the  promise  is  "  Whatsoever  ye  shall  ask,  believing, 
ye  shall  receive."  They  are  often  offered  up  from  a  mere 
sense  of  duty,  without  any  expectation,  and  almost  with- 
out any  sincere  desire  that  they  will  be  answered.  With 
such  weak  and  faint  impressions  of  heavenly  concerns, 
we  may  expect  to  find  a  fast  hold  kept  upon  the  world. 
Just  in  proportion  as  the  one  is  undervalued,  the  other  is 
sure  to  be  overestimated.  The  interests  of  the  present 
life  are  eagerly  sought  after,  the  affairs  of  eternity  post- 
poned ;  hence  all  manner  of  temptations  creep  in. 

A  Christian  parent  had  once,  led  by  prospects  of 
worldly  advancement,  placed  his  son  beyond  the  reach  of 
the  public  means  of  grace,  and  in  the  midst  of  manifold 
temptations.  The  son  was  shortly  after  on  a  visit  to  his 
father ;  and  the  parent  prayed,  in  his  family  worship,  that 
the  boy  might  be  preserved  amidst  the  various  perils  of 
his  situation.  The  youth  reflected.  What !  does  my  father 
put  me  into  the  devil's  mouth  ;  and  then  pray  to  God  that 
the  devil  may  not  be  allowed  to  swallow  me  up  ?  Surely 
to  have  occasioned  such  a  reflection  from  a  child,  must 
have  been  very  painful  to  the  parent  ? 

The  result  of  this  line  of  conduct,  half  Christian,  half 
woi-ldly,  is  to  bring  up  a  race  of  young  persons  acquainted 
with  the  truths  of  religion,  but  without  any  effectual  feel- 
ing of  its  power.     They  are  thus  in  a  woi*se  situation  than 


Xll  INTRODUCTORY    REMARKS 

even  the  more  ignorant ;  since  the  sound  of  the  gospel 
can  hardly  reach  the  latter  without  some  awakening  of 
the  conscience ;  whereas  on  the  former  everything  that 
can  be  said  falls  as  a  mere  repetition  of  what  had  been 
fully  known  for  years,  but  never  deeply  or  effectually 
felt. 

The  spirit  of  Mr.  Richmond,  then,  his  fervent  love  for 
his  children's  souls,  his  never-ceasing  anxiety,  his  constant 
watchfulness,  his  daily  and  hourly  prayers,  not  of  form 
but  of  faith — furnish  unitedly  a  model,  to  which  the  at- 
tention of  Christian  parents  may  be  most  advantageously 
directed. 

Resting  in  the  form  of  godliness  without  its  life  and 
power,  is  one  of  the  great  dangers  to  which  the  Church 
is  peculiarly  exposed  in  this  day  of  general  profession  ; 
and  parents  had  need  be  very  watchful  that  they  do  not 
unawares  foster  the  most  dangerous  self-deception  in  their 
children,  by  giving  them  credit  for  genuine  regeneration 
and  conversion,  where  there  has  been  nothing  more  than 
excited  natural  feelings  without  any  real  spiritual  change. 
When  the  young  possess  notliing  more  than  what  natu- 
rally amiable  dispositions,  under  religious  culture,  may 
easily  produce,  they  are  soon  overset  in  the  rough  sea  of 
this  world's  trials  and  temptations.  Let  parents  beware 
of  too  soon  speaking  peace  and  rest  to  an  awakened  mind, 
or  a  troubled  conscience. 

The  means  of  a  successful  Christian  education  have 
next  to  be  noticed.  And  we  would  not  here  dwell  on 
subjects  which  are  generally  acknowledged,  such  as 
prompt  obedience  and  the  honoring  of  parents,  but 
would  rather  point  out  things  which  are  too  often  neg- 
lected. 

1.  The  first  thing  is  rightly  to  know  the  true  founda- 
tion OF  OUR  HOPES  OF  succES-s.  This  is  nothing  less  solid 
vhan  the  sui'e  promises  of  God's  word,  many  of  which  are 


ON    CHRISTIAN    EDUCATION.  XIU 

very  precious  to  a  Christian  parent's  heart,  (such  as 
Deut.  vii.  9;  Psalm  xxxvii.  25,  26,  c.  5,  cii.  28,  ciii.  17, 
18,  cxii.  2  ;  Proverbs  xi.  21 ;  xx.  V,  xxii.  6  ;  Isaiah  xliv. 
3—5,  H.  8,  Ixv.  23  ;  Luke  i.  50  ;  Acts  ii.  38,  39.)  To  know, 
rightly,  this  foundation,  and  humbly  and  simply  to  build 
upon  it  in  the  acting  out  of  these  promises,  which  were 
sealed  to  our  children  in  Christian  baptism,  through  faith, 
and  prayer,  and  our  daily  conduct,  patiently  waiting  on 
God  to  fulfil  them  in  his  own  time, — constitute  an  impor- 
tant first  step  to  successful  education. 

2.  We  must  join  with  this  a  clear  view  of  the  only 
governing  cause  of  success — the  free  and  rich  grace  of 
God  our  Father.  All  his  children  are  born  not  of  blood, 
nor  of  the  luill  of  the  flesh,  nor  of  the  ivill  of  man,  hut  of 
God.  Here  is  the  oi  io^in,  here  is  the  maintainino-  and  con- 
tinning  strength,  here  is  the  final  triumph  of  all  our  efforts, 
and  to  cultivate  a  habit  of  constantly  looking  to,  and  ha- 
bitually depending  upon  God  in  daily  prayer,  in  every 
instruction,  and  in  every  plan  formed  for  our  children,  is 
a  main  principle  for  obtaining  their  spiritual  good.  The 
faith  and  prayers  of  a  parent  are  specially  prevalent  with 
our  gracious  Redeemer.  Mark  ix,  23,  24. 

3.  Another  material  point  is  to  let  our  eye  be  single 
IN  seeking  primarily  their  spiritual  welfare  ;  an  all- 
directing  and  controlling  principle  in  education  should  be 
to  seek  first  the  kingdom  of  God  and  his  righteousness,  for 
our  children.  This  should  influence  us,  as  to  the  place  in 
which  we  fix  them,  the  company  to  which  we  introduce 
them,  the  books  we  wish  them  to  read,  the  situation  we 
desire  for  them,  and,  in  short,  as  to  everything  we  do  con- 
cerning them. 

4.  The  diligent  and  right  use  of  the  means  of 
GRACE,  is  a  most  important  help  for  children — such  ns 
daily  reading  the  scriptures,  prayer,  habits  of  self-exami- 
nation, regular  attendance  on  public  worship,  and  as  they 


XIV  INTRODUCTORY    REMARKS 

gTOw  up,  contirmation  and  the  Lord's  Supper.  But  be- 
sides all  these  means,  the  most  important,  perhaps,  is  that 
constant  inculcation  of  divine  truth  to  which  we  are  so 
pktinly  directed  in  the  scriptures  :  These  luords  which  I 
command  thee  this  day  shall  he  in  thine  heart ;  and  thou 
y.tudt  teach  them  diligently  unto  thy  children,  and  shall 
talk  of  them  tvhen  thou  sittest  in  thine  house,  and  when 
ikon  icalkest  hy  the  tvay,  and  when  thou  liest  down,  and 
when  thou  risest  up  ;  and  thou  shall  hind  them  for  a  sign 
upon  thine  hand,  and  they  shall  he  as  frontlets  between  thine 
eyes.  And  thou  shall  write  them  upon  the  posts  of  thine 
house  and  on  thy  gates.  Particular  instruction  of  the 
children  by  themselves,  and  a  mother's  private  and  indi- 
vidual conversation  with  them  are  also  of  great  moment. 

5.  Discipline  is  a  matter  of  constant  necessity.  A 
well-disciplined  Christian  child  is  the  best  gift  which  a 
parent  can  bestow  on  his  country  ;  whilst  children  left  to 
themselves,  and  with  no  settled  habits  of  patient  and 
steady  application,  are  likely  to  be  sources  of  much  trou- 
ble to  their  fellow  creatures.  Discipline  ^Y\\\  seek  con- 
stantly to  restrain,  check,  and  subdue  till  that  is  wrong, 
or  leading  to  wrong,  and  to  animate  and  encourage  in  all 
that  is  right.  Every  day  brings  fresh  occasion  for  its  ex- 
ercise, with  regard  to  appetite,  pleasures,  temper,  covet- 
ing the  things  of  others,  neglecting  duties,  disorderly 
practices,  and  indeed  all  the  varied  events  of  life. 

G.  Punishment  must  not  be  withheld,  but  must  be  va- 
lied  according  to  the  degree  of  the  fault.  It  is  important 
also  that  the  scale  by  which  we  measure  the  degrees  of 
wrong  should  be  scriptural.  Sins  directly  against  God, 
and  moral  faults,  such  as  falsehood,  passion,  and  taking 
anything  that  does  not  belong  to  them,  call  for  the  se- 
verest punishment,  and  should  never  be  passed  by  without 
chastisement :  while  accidents  from  carelessness,  though 
they  may  occasion  us  a  serious  injury,  yet  should  be  vis- 


ON    CHRISTIAN    EDUCATION,  XV 

ited  with  a  lighter  penalty,  as  not  being  intentional  faults. 
On  the  mode  of  punishment  the  reader  will  find  valuable 
remarks  in  this  volume. 

7.  Foster  and  encourage  by  wise  and  Christian  ap- 
probation everything  that  is  lovely  and  excellent.  Much 
may  be  done  in  forming  the  character,  by  due  attention 
to  this;  all  truth,  openness,  generosity,  self-denial,  and 
love  to  others  ;  all  diligence  and  application  in  good  pur- 
suits, should  have  the  parental  smile  of  favor;  as  all  those 
things  which  are  opposite  to  these  should  be  discouraged 
by  marks  of  disapprobation. 

8.  Earnestly  watch  against  seeking  great  things 
FOR  YOUR  CHILDREN.  0,  the  inexpressible  folly  of  aim- 
ing to  gain  for  them  high  connections,  in  classes  of  society 
above  them ;  and  for  this  end  placing  them  in  situations 
of  danger,  that  they  may  form  associations  with  their  su- 
periors!  What  havoc  has  this  made  among  the  children 
of  pious  parents !  Mind  not  high  things,  should  be  our 
plain  rule.  Seckest  thou  great  things  for  thyself?  Seek 
them  not.  God  give  us  grace  to  attend  to  these  clear 
directions  of  his  word.  If  we  trust  him,  his  providence 
Avill  call  our  children  to  those  scenes  in  which  they  may 
safely  and  honorably  serve  others,  and  glorify  his  name ; 
and  we  shall  be  preserved  from  the  anguish  of  seeing 
them  bring  reproach  on  the  gospel  of  Cln-ist. 

9.  The  last  thing  that  I  would  notice  is  our  own  con- 
sistency OF  conduct,  as  essential  to  the  full  effect  of  a 
Christian  education.  If  Christian  parents  act  inconsist- 
ently with  their  blessed  principles — if  they  are  irritable, 
selfish,  proud,  disorderly,  passionate,  and  covetous — Avhat 
can  be  expected  but  similarly  evil  tempers  in  their  chil- 
dren. But  if  they  are  poor  in  spirit,  meek,  mourning  for 
sin,  and  hungering  and  thirsting  after  righteousness,  and 
possess  and  manifest  the  other  graces  of  a  Christian,  it  is 
an  immense  auxiliary  to  all  their  religious  instruction.     In 


XVI  INTRODUCTORY    REMARKS 

fact,  it  is  one  just  retribution  of  all  evil  ways,  that  our 
children  soon  manifest  similar  evil  ways ;  on  the  other 
hand,  an  exhibition  of  holy  conduct  enforces  every  pious 
exhortation,  and  strengthens  every  solid  principle  which 
we  endeavor  to  communicate  to  them. 

Tl.e  Editor  subjoins  a  httle  sketch  of  principles  of  edu- 
cation by  which  he  has  desired  that  his  own  conduct  should 
be  governed. 


POINTS  TO  BE  KEPT  IN  VIEW  IN  A  RELIGIOUS 
EDUCATION. 

I.  Spiritual  prosperity. 

1.  Pray  for  them. 

2.  Ever  instil  Christian  principles. 

3.  Act  in  the  spirit  of  the  gospel  towards  them. 

4.  Watch  over  their  intercourse  with  others, 

5.  Teach  them  to  govern  their  tempers. 

6.  See  that  they  diligently  attend  the  means  of  grace. 

II.  Health  of  Body. 

1 .  Their  minds  not  to  be  too  much  pressed. 

2.  Exercise  to  be  regularly  taken. 

3.  Watch  against  their  ignorance  and  carelessness. 

4.  Temperance  in  diet  to  be  observed. 

5.  Things  injurious  to  health  to  be  avoided. 

6.  Early  in  bed  and  early  rising. 

Y.  Remember  the  incessant  activity  and  subtlety  of 
Satan. 

III.  Mental  Cultivation. 

1.  To  be  well  grounded  in  all  they  learn. 

2.  -Minds  to  be  strengthened  by  solid  works. 

3.  Habits  of  reflection  to  be  formed  and  called  forth. 

4.  See  that  they  understand  their  lessons. 

5.  Things  useful  to  be  especially  attended  to. 

6.  Habits  of  self-denial  to  be  formed. 


ON    CHRISTIAN    EDUCATION.  XVll 

IV.  Manners. 

1.  Kindness  to  run  through  everything,  their  morals, 
school-play,  walks,  behavior  to  each  other,  and  all  around, 
parents  and  servants. 

2.  To  show  its  true  foundation  in  Christian  principle, 
Romans  xii.  10 ;   1  Peter  iii.  8. 

3.  It  is  a  victory  over  our  natural  selfishness. 

4.  It  promotes  the  happiness  of  all  around  us. 

V.  Accomplishments. 

1.  Are  of  a  secondary  value. 

2.  A  means  of  relaxation. 

3.  They  commend  religion  to  others. 

4.  Be  sure  that  they  are  innocent. 

5.  Guard  against  those  which  lead  them  into  the  world. 

VI.  The  Saviour  all  in  all. 

1.  In  every  point  show  them  Christ. 
He,  the  root  of  spiritual  prosperity ; 
He,  the  physician  of  body  and  soul ; 
He,  the  giver  of  mental  power ; 

He,  altogether  lovely  in  all  his  ways  ; 
He,  full  of  gifts  and  full  of  grace. 

2.  Let  everything  turn  the  mind  to  him.  In  every 
walk,  in  every  lesson,  in  every  event,  in  every  sin,  in 
every  mercy,  speak  of  Christ. 

3.  Let  him  be  the  sun  and  the  glory  of  eveiy  day. 

VII.  Means. 

1.  "My  grace  is  suflBcient  for  thee." 

2.  "  He  will  give  his  holy  Spirit  to  them  that  ask.'* 

3.  "  I  am  thy  God,  I  will  strengthen  thee,  yea  I  will 
uphold  thee  with  the  right  hand  of  my  righteousness." 


TO    MRS.   RICHMOND, 


Allow  me  to  present  to  you  the  following  little 
work,  in  which  I  have  endeavored  to  draw  out 
your  late  husband's  plan  of  education,  and  to  illus- 
trate its  success  in  the  conversion  of  three  of  his 
children.  The  materials  placed  in  my  hands  ap- 
peared to  me  too  valuable  to  be  buried  in  oblivion ; 
and  I  am  persuaded  I  shall  receive  the  thanks  of 
every  Christian  parent  for  having  brought  before 
them  such  an  examplar  to  direct  and  encourage 
them  in  their  own  labors.  My  excellent  friend 
lias  long  since  been  known  as  a  minister  of  the 
gospel  and  the  advocate  of  our  religious  societies, 
and  "  his  praise  is  in  all  the  churches."  But  in 
the  following  pages  it  will  be  seen  that  his  private 
character,  as  the  father  of  a  family,  shone  with 
no  less  bright  a  lustre,  and  is  worthy  to  be  held  in 
still  higher  estimation. 

My  heart's  desire  and  prayer  to  God  for  you 
and  for  every  member  of  your  family  is,  that  you 
may  continue  to  follow  Christ  after  the  example 


IV  TO    MRS.    RICHMOND. 

of  your  instructor  and  guide,  and  under  the  influ- 
ence of  the  same  spirit,  may  bear  an  honorable 
testimony  to  the  nature  and  worth  of  vital  rchgion. 
I  am,  be  assured,  with  the  highest  esteem  and 
affection, 

Your  faithful  servant, 

The  Author. 


TO   THE   READER. 


If  any  apology  be  deemed  needful  in  present- 
ing to  the  public  another  volume  connected  with 
Mr.  Richmond's  name  and  memory,  we  might  re- 
fer to  the  lively  interest  witli  which  the  produc- 
tions of  his  pen  have  ever  been  received,  and  the 
frequent  demand  made  for  more  of  his  correspond- 
ence. It  must  be  remembered  that  the  letters 
now  published  were  not  intended  to  be  read  by 
any  one  beyond  the  circle  of  his  own  family,  and 
they  are  not  introduced  on  the  present  occasion  as 
specimens  of  extraordinary  talent  and  composition, 
but  with  a  view  to  exhibit  the  unwearied  efforts 
of  a  Christian  father  in  the  education  of  his  chil- 
dren, and  to  encourage  those  who  are  engaged  in 
the  same  pursuit  to  hope  to  the  end,  while  they 
diligently  persevere  in  the  use  of  means,  since  they 
may  here  contemplate  another  proof  that  God  is 
faithful  to  his  promise — "  Train  up  a  child  in  the 
way  he  should  go,  and  when  he  is  old  he  will  not 
depart  from  it." 


VI  TO    THE    READER. 

It  has  not  been  the  design  of  the  Editor  to  cen- 
sure others,  who  may  adopt  a  mode  of  education 
somewhat  different,  or  to  claim  for  his  friend  or 
himself  an  exclusive  right  to  dictate  to  the  Church 
of  God.  Mr.  R.  had,  in  some  respects,  his  pecu- 
liarities, and  men  must  judge  for  themselves  as  to 
their  imitation  of  them ;  but  there  can  be  no  mis- 
take in  earnestly  recommending  to  their  regard 
his  zeal  and  love — his  devout  and  heavenly  spirit 
— his  consistent  and  firm  preference  of  eternal  to 
temporal  advantages,  and  the  evident  blessing  of 
God,  which  crowned  with  success  his  method  of 
instructing  his  family.  May  the  same  divine  bless- 
ing accompany  the  present  humble  attempt  to  pro- 
mote the  glory  of  God  and  the  spiritual  good  of 
men. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

PAGE 

Remarks  on  Education — Public  Morals  and  Private  Educa- 
tion  9 

CHAPTER  II. 

Mr.  Richmond's  plan  of  Education — Amusements  for  leisure 
hours — the  Kaleidoscope — the  Solar  System.         .         .         .23 

CHAPTER  III. 

The  usual  Amusements  of  young  people  excluded — Keeping 
of  Birth-days — Letters  on  these  occasions — Choice  of  Com- 
panions— Home  Correspondence — Discipline — Letters  to  his 
Children 42 

CHAPTER  IV. 

Residence  at  the  University — Letter  to  a  young  man  matricu- 
lating at  Cambridge — Subjects  omitted  in  Mr.  Richmond's 
plan. 95 

CHAPTER  V. 

Life  of  Nugent  Richmond — Sponsorship — Letter  to  Sponsors — 
Remarks  on  the  Ministry — Nugent  sent  to  Sea — Occurrences 
in  India — Letters  to  his  Parents — His  expected  return — His 
Death.    ...  124 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Life  of  Wilberforce  Richmond — His  childhood — Letter  to  his 
Father — Mr.  Richmond's  Letters  to  Wilberforce  in  his  child- 
hood— Wilberforce's  early  character  and  letters — Lines  on 
Wilberforce's  Birth-day — Mr.  Richmond's  letters  to  him.       .  162 


vui  contents: 

CHAPTER  VII. 

PAGE 

Latter  days  of  Wilberforce — His  illness — Visit  to  Scotland — 
Return — Conversations  with  his  father 204 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

Closing  hours  of  his  life — Conversations  with  his  family — His 
Death — Mr.  Richmond's  Letter  to  his  Parishioners.       .         .  253 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Mr,  Richmond's  third  Daughter— His  Letters  to  her— Marriage 
Admonitions— Conversations  with  the  Author— Her  Sickness 
and  Death 289 

CHAPTER  X. 

Concluding  Remarks 320 

APPENDIX. 

Fragments  relating  to  Lydia  G ,  of  Newcastle-on-Tyne.   .  326 


FAMILY    PORTRAITURE 


CHAPTER  I. 

Quoiiiam  refert  a  quibus  et  quo  quisque  modo  sit  institutus. 

Q,UINTILLIAN.* 

The  importance  of  education  has  ever  been  ac- 
knowledged by  all  civilized  communities.  To  the 
ditTusion  of  knowledge,  and  its  influence  on  the 
economy  of  life  may  be  traced  the  superiority  of 
one  age  and  country  over  another  ;  and  it  is  the 
neglect  or  the  cultivation  of  their  minds,  which 
forms  the  only  true  distinction  between  man  and 
his  fellow. 

The  education  of  their  youth  was  esteemed  by 
some  nations  as  so  intimately  connected  with  the 
public  weal,  that  they  placed  the  children  of  the 
subject  under  the  superintendence  of  teachers  chosen 
by  the  state  ;  a  practice  which,  no  doubt,  inspired 
a  political  patriotism,  but  at  the  expense  of  many 
better  feelings,  and  with  the  enfeebling,  if  not  dis- 
solving those  parental  ties,  on  which  the  conduct 
and  happiness  of  life  must  greatly  depend. 

There  have  been  many  writers  on  this  subject, 

*  "  It  is  of  great  moment  by  whom  and  in  what  manner  eveiv 
one  is  educated." 

1* 


10  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

and  widely  differing  from  each  other  in  their  respect- 
ive theories.  The  opinions  of  some  are  so  extrava- 
gant and  opposed  to  all  sound  practical  wisdom,  as 
scarcely  to  deserve  an  aUusion.  Who  could  have 
supposed  that  a  grave  and  intelligent  author  would 
recommend  a  parent  to  leave  his  child  without  in- 
struction until  nearly  the  age  of  manhood,  under 
the  pretence  of  not  embarrassing  freedom  of 
thought  ?  If  such  a  strange  conceit  could  be  acted 
upon,  it  would  soon  reduce  an  enlightened  people 
to  the  condition  of  barbarians.  But  the  experiment 
is  impracticable,  for  "  the  process  in  the  formation 
of  character,  though  rude  and  ruinous  by  neglect, 
will  go  on."  From  the  cradle  to  the  grave,  a  suc- 
cession of  hourly  events  and  influences  of  a  thou- 
sand kinds  will  gradually  and  ultimately  establish 
habits,  and  give  a  capacity  for  happiness  or  misery 
on  an  entrance  into  the  eternal  world  according  to 
their  result.  A  bias  of  some  kind  or  other  will  be 
received,  and  the  only  alternative  for  our  choice  is, 
w^hether  that  predisposition  which  arises  from  the 
inculcation  of  good  principles,  and  a  reliance  on 
authority  for  a  time,  is  not  preferable  to  the  impulse 
of  corrupt  inclination  and  the  influence  of  more  cor- 
rupt communication. 

There  have  been  other  writers  who  seem  dis- 
posed to  consider  man  as  the  mere  creature  of 
circumstances,  and  education  as  forming  "  the  only 
ground  of  difference  between  the  judge  on  the 
bench  and  the  prisoner  at  the  bar."  These  attach 
too  great  an  importance  to  human  effort  and  the 
force  of  habit,  when  they  compare  a  rational  agent 


REMARKS    ON    EDUCATION.  11 

to  the  plant  of  the  field,  and  expect  that  he  will  of 
necessity  take  his  form  and  shape  from  the  hand  of 
the  cultivator.  If  they  do  not  deny  in  plain  terms 
the  need  of  divine  interposition,  they  make  no  ap- 
peal to  it,  and  seem  to  regard  it  as  superfluous  to 
the  purposes  and  ends  of  education.  But  whatever 
value  we  set  on  moral  culture,  its  failure,  in  many 
instances, — a  failure  so  great  that  corrupt  nature 
seems  as  it  were  exasperated  to  evil  by  the  very 
means  employed  for  its  correction, — affbrds  a 
mournful  proof,  that ''  it  is  a  jfoor  centre  of  a  mcui's 
actions,  himself.''''  Another  equally  affecting  fact 
leads  us  to  look  higher  than  mere  human  agency  ; 
for  have  not  many  useful  and  virtuous  characters 
sometimes  appeared  like  lights  in  the  midst  of  dark- 
ness emerging  from  influences  the  least  calculated 
to  warrant  such  an  exception  ?  It  never  must  be 
concealed  or  forgotten  by  a  teacher,  that  "  God 
worketh  both  to  will  and  to  do  of  his  good  pleas 
ure."  He  gives  to  the  mind  its  first  impulse,  and 
directs  every  step  in  its  progress  wherever  the  cul- 
ture of  man  is  successful.  Independence  is  no  at- 
tribute of  a  creature ;  and  to  challenge  success  as 
the  necessary  result  of  our  own  efforts  is  a  pre- 
sumption no  less  opposed  to  reason  than  denounced 
by  revelation.  "  Not  by  might  nor  by  power,  but 
by  my  spirit,  saith  the  Lord." 

There  is  a  third  error  which  has  its  advocates. 
While  some  attribute  too  much  to  human  culture, 
others  expect  too  little  from  it.  There  is  a  pride 
which  inspires  an  undue  confidence  in  the  use  of 
means,  and  there  is  an  indolent  reliance  on  divine 


12  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

aid  which  vainly  looks  for  an  end  without  them,  and 
disposes  men  to  neglect  or  wholly  disregard  them. 
This  perversion  of  a  truth  generates  a  reckless  feel- 
ing, and  has  done  great  mischief  in  religious  fami- 
lies. It  is  perhaps  a  chief  cause  of  the  melancholy 
spectacle  not  unfrequently  exhibited  in  the  ruin  of 
many  children  whose  parents  have  professed  to  re- 
spect, and  value  Christian  principles.  They  ^  seem 
to  overlook  both  the  precept  and  the  promise  of  the 
word  of  God.' — "  Train  up  a  child  in  the  way  in 
which  he  should  go,  and  when  he  is  old  he  will  not 
depart  from  it." 

But  dismissing  whatever  is  chimerical  or  mis- 
taken in  these  theories,  (for  it  is  not  to  my  purpose 
to  carry  the  discussion  to  a  greater  length,)  I  would 
observe,  that  to  train  and  prepare  the  soul  for  its 
eternal  destiny  is  the  proper  business  and  end  of 
education.  It  must  be  admitted  that  there  are  sub- 
ordinate ends  which  may  be  desired,  and  means  of 
the  same  character  which  may  be  employed  for 
their  attainment :  that  a  competent  provision  ;  ac- 
quirements which  will  render  us  respectable  in 
life  ;  all  that  is  connected  with  the  security  and 
promotion  of  present  happiness,  are  lawful  objects 
of  pursuit,  and  it  is  follly  to  neglect  or  despise  them. 
In  many  cases  it  would  be  a  dereliction  of  duty  ; 
for  we  must  not  consider  ourselves  as  insulated 
beings,  and  "  go  out  of  the  world,"  but  continue  in 
it  as  "  the  salt  of  the  earth,"  to  dispense  a  purifying 
influence.  I  am  not  the  advocate  of  superstition 
or  eccentricity  ;  but  I  contend  that  the  chief  end 
of  education  is  to  train  for  eternity.     There  may 


PUBLIC    MORALS.  13 

be  an  awfnl  consistency  in  the  sentiments  of  those 
whose  hopes  and  pros]iects  are  bounded  by  time, 
when  they  sa}^,  We  and  our  children  will  eat  and 
drink,  for  to-morrow  we  die.  But,  independently 
of  revelation,  and  assuming  only  the  belief  of  a 
future  state, — a  state  to  be  determined  by  our  con- 
duct in  the  present  world,  it  follows  as  a  necessary 
consequence  that  whatever  we  teach  or  do,  ought 
to  have  a  bearing  on  another  condition  of  being, 
and  be  made  subservient  to  its  interests.  Here  I 
stand  on  the  vantage  ground,  and  fear  not  to  make 
ray  appeal  to  every  thinking  man ;  not  only  whether 
the  welfare  of  a  future  life  can  be  reasonably  set 
aside,  and  children  taught  to  despise  and  disregard 
it,  but  whether  it  be  consistent  with  the  expectation 
of  another  world  to  give  it  less  than  the  chief  and 
foremost  place  in  our  thoughts  and  actions.  It 
cannot  be  regarded  as  subordinate  or  secondary 
without  exciting  a  just  suspicion  that  we  do  not 
admit  its  existence.  Such  an  appeal  may  be  made 
with  still  greater  force  to  an  avowed  disciple  of  the 
Christian  faith.  The  whole  bearing  of  revelation 
goes  to  this  point,  ''  Seek  first  the  kingdom  of 
God."  Let  it  be  observed  that  the  question  is  not 
here  one  of  mere  opinion.  Few  would  venture 
to  deny  the  principle,  for  this  would  be  to  deny 
the  authority  of  the  principle  ;  but  we  must  look 
to  opinion  as  realized  in  practice,  and  insist  on  the 
propriety  and  necessity  of  interweaving  religious 
principle  as  a  golden  thread  in  the  whole  texture  of 
education  ;  deriving  from  it  the  motives,  the  means, 
and  the  end  ;  and  so  steadily  keeping  in  view  the 


14  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

final  result,  as  to  make  a  cheerful  sacrifice  of  every- 
thing which  would  be  likely  to  impair  or  interfere 
with  it. 

I  may  be  censured  for  rashly  libelling  the  com- 
munity in  which  we  live,  yet  it  must  be  apparent 
to  an  unprejudiced  mind,  that  for  the  most  part  we 
are  a  nation  of  Christians  by  profession,  and  of 
heathens  in  opinion  and  practice.  Christianity 
may  have  improved  the  moral  sense,  or  at  least 
driven  into  the  shade  the  grosser  abominations  of 
ancient  times,  but  it  is  a  palpable  fact,  that  the 
Bible  is  not  our  standard ;  nor  a  provision  for  the 
world  to  come,  our  object,  and  end.  Are  not  our 
motives  derived  from  reputation,  interest,  or  gratifi- 
cation ;  and  were  not  these  the  fulcrum  employed 
by  the  gentile  world  to  move  the  youthful  mind 
to  exertion  ?  What  are  the  virtues  which  are 
prized  and  commended  ?  We  hear  of  a  becoming- 
pride — a  conscious  dignity — a  noble  ambition — a 
deserved  scorn  and  contempt — a  just  revenge — dis- 
positions and  impulses  of  corrupt  nature  which  are 
totally  condemned  by  the  word  of  God.  In  what 
light  are  many  acknowledged  vices  regarded  by  us  ? 
The  Christian  and  the  heathen  moralist  equally  re- 
probate murder,  impurity,  and  fraud ;  and  legisla- 
tors of  every  age  have  enacted  laws  to  deter  from 
their  commission  ;  but  do  we  not  in  a  multitude  of 
instances  endeavor  to  hide  the  enormity  of  these 
crimes,  when  we  cannot  alter  their  character,  and 
talk  of  a  proper  defence  of  honor,  an  affair  of  gal- 
lantry, and  a  fortunate  stroke  of  policy  ? 

"  All  these   things  the  Gentiles  did,"  and  we, 


PUBLIC    AND    PRIVATE    EDUCATION.  15 

though  professing  to  know  God,  by  our  imitation  of 
their  actions,  dishonor  him.  Even  when  a  stricter 
rule  of  morals  is  a)3proved,  the  leading  feature  of 
heathen  ages  is  still  retained,  and  a  boy  is  taught 
by  the  example  of  his  teacher,  and  by  the  conduct 
of  ail  around  him,  to  regard  religion  as  an  affair  of 
secondary  importance, — at  best  to  be  viewed  with 
awe  at  a  distance — not  to  be  brought  into  contact 
with  all  his  aims  and  ends ;  as  a  something  he 
must  submit  to  of  necessity,  rather  than  choose  as 
a  source  of  his  purest  enjoyment.  The  peculiarities 
of  the  Gospel,  in  principle,  disposition,  and  conduct, 
are  so  far  from  being  applauded  or  enforced,  that 
the  very  reference  to  them  on  any  occasion,  would 
expose  him  to  suspicion,  scorn,  and  reproach. 

This  is  no  idle  declamation,  but  a  simple  state- 
ment of  facts  ;  and  it  is  worth  while  to  inquire  the 
cause  of  so  lamentable  a  departure  from  the  char- 
acter of  true  Christianity. 

We  will  therefore  examine  the  course  of  educa- 
tion pursued  in  this  country,  as  it  is  conducted  in 
public  schools  or  by  private  tuition,  and  which,  if 
carried  on,  is  usually  completed  at  one  of  the  uni- 
versities. 

A  public  school  presents  some  advantages.  These 
consist  chiefly,  perhaps,  in  the  superior  ability  and 
attainments  of  the  masters,  who  are  generally  se- 
lected from  the  ablest  scholars  of  the  age.  The 
pleas  often  urged,  of  the  value  of  connections,  and 
the  knowledge  of  the  world,  (which  to  boys  can 
neither  be  necessary  nor  useful,)  seems  t-o  carry 
little  weight ;    and  if  allowed  to  possess  any,   is 


16  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

more  tlian  counterbalanced  by  the  evils  arising  out 
of  numbers,  bad  companions,  and  tlic  neglect  of  the 
holy  Scriptures ;  which  lay  a  foundation  for  habits 
and  conduct  in  life  beyond  measure  injurious. 
Many  private  schools  abound  with  the  same  evils, 
and  offer  fewer  advantages  than  the  larger  estab- 
lishments. In  both  cases,  it  has  been  justly  ob- 
served, instruction  may  be  secured  in  the  school- 
room, but  education  is  carried  on  in  the  play-ground, 
or  in  the  dormitory.  There  is  seldom  at  such  sea- 
sons any  superintendence.  Neither  the  eye  nor 
the  ear  of  the  master  is  with  his  pupils,  and  they 
are,  for  the  most  part,  left  without  control  or  re- 
straint, to  follow  the  devices  of  their  own  minds. 
A  few  elder  boys  prescribe  the  standard  of  opinion 
and  conduct,  and  whatever  may  be  erroneous  or 
corrupt  in  the  loaders,  finds  a  ready  acquiescence 
from  those  below  them.  Painful  are  the  details  of 
a  Tyro,  who  either  boasts  or  laments  the  fruits  of 
these  evil  communications. 

The  neglect  of  religion  in  public  schools  has  often 
been  asserted,  and  the  charge  repelled  with  indig- 
nation. Certain  it  is,  however,  that  the  greater 
number  of  pupils  leave  these  establishments  and 
enter  into  life,  with  an  ignorance  and  indifference 
towards  religion,  or  with  an  avowed  contempt  for 
it.  They  have  no  idea  of  viewing  it  as  the  end  of 
their  being, — the  rule  of  their  conduct,  and  to  be 
carried  by  them  as  a  governing  principle  into  every 
event  and  transaction  of  life.  It  has  evidently  not 
been  a  prominent  feature  in  their  past  studies.  A 
form  of  prayer,  a  chapter  in  the  Greek  Testament 


PUBLIC    AND    PRIVATE    EDUCATFON.  17 

on  the  Sunday,  or  an  exercise  for  the  memory  from 
some  elementary  author,  (and  such  I  believe  to  be 
the  amount  of  religious  instruction,)  are  poor  sub- 
stitutes for  a  constant  reference  to  the  commands 
and  promises,  the  motives  and  models  of  the  Bible, 
— for  a  dilis^ent  cultivation  of  ri2:ht  habits  and 
opinions.  Can  it  be  said  with  any  truth,  th^t  the 
word  of  God  is  read  daily,  or  pains  taken  in  its 
application  to  the  heart  and  conscience  ?  Although 
a  decent  respect  may  be  inculcated  for  revelation, 
is  a  boy  instructed  by  his  teacher  to  regard  the 
world  as  a  bauble,  and  the  service  of  God  as  his 
glory  ?  Are  sinful  tempers  watched  over  and  re- 
proved ?  Are  heavenly  dispositions  cultivated  and 
encouraged,  with  a  close  and  intimate  inspection 
of  morals  and  the  employment  of  leisure  hours  ? 
They  can  best  answer  these  questions  who  have 
been  the  victims  of  vices  contracted  in  our  public 
schools ;  or  who,  when  awakened  to  real  principle 
and  piety  in  after  years,  have  endured  throughout 
life  a  kind  of  martyrdom  in  conflicting  with  the 
sinful  habits  of  their  youthful  career. 

The  chief  studies  in  our  public  seminaries  are 
the  classics.  Science,  till  of  late  years,  formed  no 
part  of  them,  nor  has  it  even  now  more  than  a 
small  share  of  the  seven  or  eight  years  devoted  to 
acquire  an  imperfect  acquaintance  with  the  authors 
of  Greece  and  Rome. 

The  objections  made  to  the  use  of  heathen 
authors  in  Christian  education  are  not  always 
valid.  Classical  knowledge  forms  a  good  founda- 
tion for  theological  attainment,  while  it  is  considered 


18  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

as  the  handmaid  of  religion,  and  is  made  subser- 
vient to  its  purposes.  An  illiterate  ministry  is 
never  a  safe  one,  nor  can  a  sound  and  accurate  in- 
terpretation of  the  word  of  truth  be  expected  with- 
out a  knowledo^e  of  the  oris^inal  lansruaofes,  and 
without  that  disposition  to  sober  and  patient  inves- 
tigation, which  the  habits  and  discipline  of  the 
mind  under  proper  culture,  seldom  fail  to  inspire. 

These  objections  apply  rather  to  the  manner  of 
teaching  the  classics, — to  their  being  viewed  as  an 
end^  not  a  means,  and  to  the  measure  of  time  and 
attention  bestowed  on  them,  to  the  exclusion  of 
more  important  subjects  which  would  counteract 
the  evils  incident  to  them. 

While  discussing  the  merits  of  school  education, 
I  cannot  refrain  from  adverting  to  a  modern  system, 
which  discards  the  aid  of  religion  in  the  hours  of 
instruction.  I  view  this  novel  experiment  with 
extreme  alarm.  The  reduction  of  expense,  and  a 
plausible  pretence  to  liberality  of  sentiment,  has 
prevailed  on  men  of  real  piety  to  give  their  sanction 
to  it,  and  they  have  been  seduced,  in  their  simplic- 
ity, to  approve  a  plan  more  worthy  of  the  enemies 
of  religion  than  of  its  friends.  The  classical  tutor 
must  take  the  Bible  in  his  hand  with  every  book  of 
instruction,  or  the  mind  of  his  pupil  will  necessarily 
be  exposed  to  the  daily  influence  of  many  things 
which  are  false  in  principle  and  vicious  in  practice. 
He  will  insensibly  be  led  to  prefer  knowledge  to  its 
right  use  and  application,  and  to  estimate  talent 
above  piety.  He  will  despise  as  unworthy  of  the 
manly  age,  the  principles  confined  to  the  nursery 


PUBLIC    A^'D    PRIVATE    EDUCATION.  19 

and  the  family,  and  which  are  never  brought  before 
him  by  those  whom  he  is  taught  to  regard  with 
superior  veneration  and  respect.  We  may  boast 
of  the  march  of  intellect,  and  treat  with  supercilious 
contempt  the  example  and  usages  of  former  ages, 
but  the  diffusion  of  unsanctified  knovjledge  will 
prove  a  great  evil  to  the  community.  The  feeblest 
recognition  of  a  Diety,  and  the  admission  only  of 
the  forms  of  religion — nay,  even  superstition  itself 
is  preferable  to  the  entire  exclusion  of  all  reference 
to  a  divine  power. 

"  No  institution,"  said  my  excellent  friend,  "  can 
or  ought  to  stand,  in  which  Christ  is  not  the  founda- 
tion ;  and  I  wholly  disapprove  of  all  schemes  which 
deliberately  shut  God  out  of  their  direction." 

To  schools,  and  particularly  to  the  manner  in 
which  they  are  conducted,  Mr.  Richmond  felt  the 
strongest  repugnance.  The  sentiments'*  which  I 
have  laid  before  the  reader  are  in  fact  the  sub- 
stance of  conversations  with  him  on  these  subjects. 
He  never  spoke  without  emotion  when  he  recol- 
lected the  vices  which  his  eldest  son  had  contracted 
by  a  public  education,  and  the  sad  influence  of  bad 
connections  formed  under  those  circumstances,  and 
which,  counteracting  the  good  effects  of  early 
instruction  at  home,  caused  the  ruin,  as  he  used  to 
say,  "  of  his  poor  wanderer."  He  resolved  in 
consequence  to  adopt  the  plan  of  ho7ne  education^ 
with  the  assistance  of  a  private  tutor. 

Private  teaching  has  certainly  some  disadvantages, 
but  they  are  few  in  comparison  of  the  benefits  se- 
cured.    I  grant  that  there  is  a  danger  of  irregu- 


20  FAMIT-Y    PO'RTRAITURK. 

larity  in  the  hours  of  stady^  arising  from  visitors 
and  invitations — the  severity  of  needful  discipline 
may  be  softened  into  a  mischievous  relaxation  by 
affection  ill-directed  and  unduly  interfering  with  the 
teacher — and  the  stimulus  of  competition,  the  desire 
of  distinction  and  the  love  of  praise,  (very  question- 
able motives,  however,)  are  lost.  But  these  and 
every  other  defect  of  a  private  education  may  be 
remedied,  while  advantages  of  tlie  utmost  import- 
ance in  the  formation  of  character  are  secured. 
Regular  habits  may  be  established — interruptions 
of  every  kind  prevented  by  a  firm  resistance  of 
them — motives  in  unison  with  the  Scriptures  will 
be  found  more  than  adequate  to  every  occasion — the 
devotional  exercises  of  the  closet  may  be  watched — 
hourly  opportunities  will  be  afforded  for  breaking 
off*  the  shoots  of  evil  as  they  spring  up,  an  example 
of  principle  embodied  in  action  may  be  presented 
to  youthful  observation,  and  affections  of  the  best 
kind  be  cultivated  between  the  members  of  the 
family — much  useful  general  knowledge  may  be 
imparted,  and  a  fair  share  of  the  learning  of  public 
schools  be  acquired.  Numbers  can  only  be  re- 
strained by  force  or  fear,  or  excited  by  pride  and 
interest.  Choice,  affection,  principle,'  can  seldom 
be  "employed.  The  discipline  of  a  great  school 
nmst  be  that  of  a  man  of  war,  and  it  is  conducted 
in  either  case  under  much  the  same  necessity.  Two 
or  three  boys  may  be  watched  every  hour — evil 
checked  as  it  arises — every  occurrence  improved — 
religion  infused  into  every  pursuit  and  instruction, 
without  any  necessity  for  recurring  to  stimuli  which 


PUBLIC    AND    PRIVATE    EDUCATION.  21 

befit  only  the  lowest  condition  of  mortal  existence, 
and  are  never  found,  in  their  application,  to  pro- 
duce any  other  effect  than  to  depress  or  exasperate 
generous  natures. 

There  is  an  error  which  universally  obtains  in 
every  plan  of  education,  public  or  private,  and 
which  is  perhaps  a  principle  cause  of  the  distaste 
of  our  young  persons  for  grave  and  solid  studies. 
They  are  never  taught  to  thhik.  Materials  in 
abundance  are  set  before  them,  but  they  know 
nothing  of  the  use  and  end  designed  by  working 
them ;  they  are  ignorant  of  the  rationale  of  gram- 
mar, or  the  application  of  science.  The  memory 
is  burdened  as  a  drudge,  whilst  the  understanding 
remains  torpid  and  unexercised ;  and  thus  the 
interest  which  real  knowledge  inspires  is  lost  in 
the  mere  acquisition  of  words.  A  boy  can  give  a 
rule  but  not  a  reason.  Pestalozzi  has  attempted, 
with  some  success,  to  improve  former  methods  of 
imparting  knowledge,  but  even  his  system  falls 
short  of  rational  instrnction,  where  the  understand- 
ing and  the  heart  should  keep  pace  with  the  progress 
of  the  memory.  The  practice  of  enforcing  by  au- 
thority, instead  of  leading  the  mind  to  investigate, 
explain,  and  digest  in  the  exercise  of  its  own  ener- 
gies, disposes  a  youth  to  affirm,  rather  than  prove, 
and,  resting  contented  with  a  crude  and  superficial 
acquaintance  with  all  subjects,  to  shrink  from  the 
labor  of  acquiring  solid  and  accurate  information. 
It  would  be  a  very  salutary  practice  to  withhold 
from  young  persons  the  use  and  enjoyment  of  every- 
thing, however  simple,  whether  an  effect  of  art  or 


22  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

nature,  till  they  had  prepared  themselves  to  explain 
its  history,  origin,  place,  and  means  of  production. 
Thus  no  moment  would  run  to  waste,  and  table 
talk,  which  now  consists  of  little  more  than  barren 
details,  would  become  a  vehicle  of  much  interesting 
and  useful  communication. 

If  science  ought  not  to  ])rccecle  language,  they 
should  walk  together  as  friends  from  the  com- 
mencement, and  be  associated  throughout  the  pro- 
gress of  education. 

But  leaving  the  reader  to  form  his  own  opinion 
on  the  comparative  merits  of  ])ublic  and  private 
education,  I  shall  lay  before  him,  in  the  next  chap- 
ter, the  method  resorted  to  by  Mr.  Richmond  in  his 
family  arrangements. 


CHAPTER   II. 

And  this  our  life,  exempt  from  public  haunt, 
Finds  tongues  in  trees,  books  in  the  running  brooks, 
Sei-mons  In  stones,  and  good  in  everything. 

Shakspeare. 

One  great  reason  why  so  few  people  in  the  world  are  truly  religious,  and  why 
among  the  truly  religious  so  many  are  not  happy  in  their  religion,  is  this,  thai 
aarly  religious  habits  are  too  commonly  associated,  not  with  cheerfulnes-s.  but 
with  constraint  and  gloom. — Jebb. 

Mr.  Richmond's  first  object  was  to  make  hohie 
the  happiest  place  .to  his  children  ;  to  render  thfm 
independent  of  foreign  alliances  in  their  pursijits 
and  friendships ;  and  so  to  interest  them  in  don^Bs- 
tic  enjoyments,  as  to  preclude  the  feeling,  too  coni- 
mon  in  young  people,  of  restlessness  and  longing  to 
leave  their  own  fire-sides,  and  wander  abroad  in 
search  of  pleasure  and  enjoyment.  In  this  attempt 
to  satisfy  his  family  and  engage  their  compliance 
with  his  wishes,  he  so  completely  succeeded,  that 
every  member  of  it  left  home  with  regret,  even  on 
an  occasional  visit,  and  returned  to  Turvey  with 
fond  anticipation, — as  to  the  place  of  their  treasures. 

To  his  dauo^hter  F he  writes — 

"  We  are  going  on  quietly  at  home. 

Little  K ,  by  a  sudden  determination,  is  gone 

into  Norfolk.  My  love  and  respect  for  your  dear, 
most  dear  mother,  has  prevailed  to  gain  my  con- 
sent ;  otherwise  I  much  prefer  a  mother's  and  elder 


24  FAMILY    PORTRATTURK. 

sister's  roof,  for  female  education,  to  any  school. 
Bii:  I  leave  this  affair  in  God's  hands,  and  hope  he 
will  overrule  it  for  the  best.  I  have  long  thought 
that  though  a  good  school  is  better  than  a  bad 
home,  a  good  liome  is  the  best  of  schools.  Chil- 
dren are  for  the  most  part  educated  in  temper  and 
habits  of  all  kinds,  not  by  governesses,  but  by  com- 
paiions,  and  here  all  is  contingency.  But  so  much 
of  my  own  happiness  consists  in  making  your  dear 
mamma  happy,  that  I  waive  my  objection  to  a 
Temporary  alienation  from  the  parental  roof,  and 
pray  God  it  may  not  injure  K 's  spiritual  wel- 
fare. Some  may  think  I  am  too  fond  of  seeing  my 
chi.dren  around  me  ;  if  it  be  a  weakness,  I  must 
pleid  guilty  to  it :  from  their  infancy  I  have  looked 
forvvard,  as  far  as  providential  circumstances  would 
peimit,  to  find  comfort,  support,  and  com'panion- 
shi')  in  my  children.  My  middle,  and  if  spared  my 
old  age,  may  much  require  it ;  and  if  iny  life  be 
short,  can  any  wonder  that  I  should  like  to  see  and 
know  much  of  them  while  I  remain  in  this  world. 
It  has  ever  been  my  heart's  desire  and  prayer  to 
give  them  a  useful,  happy,  exemplary  home  ;  w^ere 
I  to  fail  here,  life  would  indeed  becon^e  a  blank  to 
me.  I  would  strive  "  to  roll  the  trouljlous  trial  on 
God,'"  but  I  should  deeply  mourn  in  secret.  Sons 
must  in  due  season  go  forth  into  a  wanton  and 
wicked  world  to  seek  their  bread  ;  but  daughters, 
while  unmarried,  are  better  calculated  to  become 
comforters  and  companions  to  their  parents,  as  tliey 

go  down  to  the  vale  of  years 

"  Your  affectionate  father.      L.  R." 


AMUSEMENTS    FOR    LEISURE    HOURS.  25 

A  happy  home  greatly  depends  on  the  recreations 
and  amusements  which  are  provided  for  young 
people.  It  is  no  small  difficulty  to  give  a  useful 
direction  to  their  play- hours :  little  more  has  been 
contemplated  in  the  gambols  of  youth  than  the 
health  and  activity  of  their  bodies,  and  the  refresh- 
ment of  their  spirits  ;  it  is  well  when  these  objects 
can  be  attained  without  the  indulgence  of  sinful 
tempers  ;  but  youthful  sports  have  often  proved  the 
nursery  of  pride,  am.bition,  and  contention.  In 
public  schools  these  evils  have  been  encouraged,  or 
at  least  deemed  unavoidable.  The  seed  of  revenge 
in  manhood  has  been  planted  in  boyish  violence, 
and  the  unheeded  acts  of  oppression  by  the  elder 
boys  towards  their  juniors,  have  trained  them  to 
tyranny  in  riper  years.  Private  education  affords 
gTcater  facilities  for  checking  these  evils,  but  the 
want  of  the  stimulus  supplied  by  numbers  is  apt 
to  render  the  pastime  uninteresting  and  home  dis- 
tasteful. 

Mr.  Pv.  was  alive  to  these  inconveniences,  and 
endeavored  by  a  succession  and  variety  of  recre- 
ations to  employ  the  leisure  hours  to  advantage. 
He  had  recourse  to  vv^iat  was  beautiful  in  nature 
or  ingenious  in  art  or  science ;  and  whefi  abroad 
he  collected  materials  to  gratify  curiosity.  He 
fitted  up  his  museum,  his  auctarium,  and  his  li- 
brary, with  specimens  of  mineralogy,  instruments 
for  experimental  philosophy,  and  interesting  curi- 
osities from  every  part  of  the  world :  he  had  his 
magic  lantern  to  exhibit  phantasmagoria,  and  teach 
natural  history  ;  to  display  picturesque  beauty,  and 

2 


26  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

scenes  and  objects  far-famed  in  different  countries  : 
his  various  microscopes  for  examining  the  minutire 
of  plants  and  animals ;  his  telescope  for  tracing 
planetary  revolutions  and  appearances :  his  air- 
pump  and  other  machines  for  illustrating  and  ex- 
plaining the  principles  of  pneumatics  and  elec- 
tricity ;  autliors  of  every  country  who  treated  on 
the  improvements  connected  with  modern  science  ; 
whatever,  in  short,  could  store  the  mind  with  ideas, 
or  interest  and  improve  the  heart.  When  he 
travelled  he  kept  up  a  correspondence  with  his 
family,  and  narrated  to  them  the  persons,  places, 
and  adventures  of  his  progress.  On  his  return  he 
enlivened  many  a  leisure  hour  by  larger  details  of 
all  that  he  had  observed  to  amuse  and  iip.prove. 

It  was  a  sight  truly  gratifying  to  witness  the  af- 
fectionate parent  in  the  professor's  chair,  with  a 
mind  richly  stored  and  a  countenance  beaming  with 
kindness,  fixing  the  attention  of  his  youthful  au- 
ditors on  subjects  abstruse  in  their  character,  but 
rendered  interesting  and  intelligible  to  the  happy 
group  which  surrounded  him. 

Music  was  another  source  of  domestic  amuse- 
ment in  which  Mr.  R.  excelled,  being  both  a  good 
composer  and  no  mean  performer.  Many  of  his 
children  played  on  some  instrument,  and  occasion- 
ally joined  their  father  in  a  "  concert  of  sweet 
sounds."  He  wished  to  exclude  what  was  frivolous 
or  trifling  in  this  noble  art,  and  delighted  in  the 
grave,  full-toned  harmony,  as  best  calculated  to  in- 
spire corresponding  emotions. 

He   encouraged  the  use  of  the  pencil,  and  was 


AMUSEMENTS    FOR    LEISURE    HOURS.  27 

very  anxious  that  his  daughters   should  cultivate 
their  taste  for  drawing. 

'*  As  I  have  journeyed  along,"  he  writes  to  one 
of  his  children,  "  I  have  often  wished  I  had  the 
pencil  of  a  ready  draughtsman,  that  I  might  bring 
home  a  bundle  of  sketches  of  landscapes,  to  revive 
recollections,  and  render  natural  scenery  permanent 
to  the  imagination.  When  I  find  that  this  cannot 
be,  I  next  wish  that  one  or  more  of  my  dear  chil- 
dren might  acquire  a  talent  of  this  kind,  and  be  a 
sort  of  right  hand  to  fulfil  my  wishes  in  that  way. 
Perhaps  some  day  you  will  be  that  right  hand  to 
me.  Loving  landscape  scenery  as  I  do,  my  grand 
object  is  to  see  God  in  it ;  to  trace  him  in  every 
part  of  his  works ;  to  acknowledge  his  goodness  in 
them,  and  to  collect  arguments  from  them  to  endear 
the  character  of  Christ,  '  by  whom,'  the  scripture 
says,  '  all  things  were  made,  and  without  whom  was 
not  anything  made  that  was  made.'  To  this  end  I 
wish  drawing  to  be  cultivated.  I  mourn  over  pride 
and  vanity,  and  if  accomplishments  are  only  ac- 
quired to  gratify  these  unholy  affections,  I  should 
wish  them  banished.  Nay,  mere  innocent  pleasure 
is  not  a  sufficient  motive  ;  the  glory  of  God  must 
be  the  end  and  aim  of  every  attainment,  or  else  it 
is  a  waste  of  time,  and  an  abuse  of  talent.  Pen- 
cils, paint,  India  ink,  and  India  rubber,  may  be  de- 
voted to  the  honor  of  Him  who  bestows  the  power 
of  combining  their  respective  properties,  so  as  to 
produce  the  similitudes  of  his  works.  I  am  no  less 
anxious  about  the  cultivation  of  musical  talents  ; 
there  is,  however,   more   danger   of   music    being 


28  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

abused  than  drawing :  the  inundation  of  frivolity, 
and  the  sometimes  unsuspected  associations  of  a 
carnal  and  worldly  nature,  which  mingle  with 
musical  compositions  of  a  modern  and  fashionable 
cast,  often  distress  and  hurt  me.  The  fascinations 
of  the  ball-room,  the  corruptions  of  the  theatre  and 
opera-house,  too  often  creep  into  the  quiet  piano- 
forte corner  of  young  people.  Even  instrumental 
music,  with  its  appendages  of  waltzes,  dances,  and 
love-sick  airs,  has  often  a  tendency  to  familiarize 
the  young  mind  with  subjects  injurious  to  its  wel- 
fare. The  sober  dignity  of  genuine  instrumental 
music,  is  nearly  lost  in  the  substitution  of  modern 
trick  and  blandishment :  but  if  instrumental  music 
be  thus  abused,  how  much  more  so  vocal :  here  the 
art  and  science  of  music  opuns  its  richest  stores  of 
opportunity  for  glorifying  God,  and  edifying  man  ; 
here  all  the  charms,  and  all  the  contrivances  of  this 
sublime  faculty,  present  innumerable  means  of 
spiritualizing  the  heart,  gratifying  the  ear,  exalting 
the  understanding,  and  improving  the  affections  ; 
but  here,  alas !  the  world,  the  flesh,  and  the  devil 
have  grasped  the  powers  of  the  musical  art  in  too 
many  instances,  and  sacrificed  them  all  to  Dagon 
and  Baal,  to  vice  and  folly,  to  levity  and  wanton- 
ness, to  fascination  and  delusion.  Love  songs, 
drinking  songs,  vice-provoking  songs,  and  many 
other  sorts  of  songs,  resound  from  house  to  house 
in  public  and  private,  and  prove  to  demonstration 
the  idols  which  men,  and  even  women  serve,  and 
consequently  '  whose  they  are.'  What  a  profana- 
tion of  a  holy  art  I  what  a  degradation  of  a  noble 


AMUSEMENTS    FOR    LEISURE    HOURS.  29 

science  !  I  am  persuaded  that  music  is  designed 
to  prepare  for  heaven,  to  educate  for  the  choral  en- 
joyment of  Paradise,  to  form  the  mind  to  virtue 
and  devotion,  and  to  charm  away  evil,  and  sanctify 
the  heart  to  God.  A  Christian  musician  is  one 
who  has  a  harp  in  his  affections,  which  he  daily 
tunes  to  the  notes  of  the  angelic  host,  and  with 
w^liich  he  makes  miclody  in  his  heart  to  the  Lord. 
Does  he  strike  the  chord  with  his  hands  ?  it  is  to 
'  bid  lute  and  harp  to  awake  to  the  glory  of  God.' 
The  hand,  the  tongue,  and  the  ear  form  a  kind  of 
triple  chord,  not  to  be  broken.     Bring  music,  my 

beloved  F ,  to  this  test,  and  your  vocal  hours 

will  not  be  spent  in  vain.  The  instructions  of 
your  childhood  will  supply  you  througli  life  with  a 
fountain  of  pleasures,  drawn  from  the  true  source 
of  legitimate  recreation.  Sing  the  songs  of  Zion, 
and  amidst  the  vibrations  of  the  air  may  true 
prayer  and  praise  ascend  to  heaven,  and  enter  into 
the  ears  of  the  Lord  God  of  your  salvation  ;  and 
then  will  the  harm.onious  combination  be  complete. 
Pray  for  grace  to  guide  you  in  all  your  duties,  that 
you  may  comfort,  assist,  and  strengthen  your  in- 
valuable mother  in  all  her  cares  and  labors,  by 
your  dutiful,  diligent,  and  affectionate  regard  to 
her  precepts,  example,  and  wishes.  JMay  your 
brothers  in  particular  learn  from  you,  and  you  from 
Christ,  what  Christian  meekness,  activity,  and  so- 
briety mean.  Watch  over  them  with  a  sister's 
heart  and  a  sister's  prayers,  and  they  will  be  heard 
and  answered.  Go  to  school  again  and  again. 
Whither  ?     To  what  school,  papa  ?     To  the  school 


30  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE.' 

of  Christ,  where  the  Great  Instructor  waits  to 
teach  and  bless  you.  Go  thither,  my  child,  and 
carry  your  sins  and  your  cares,  and  your  weak- 
nesses and  your  errors,  and  your  affections  and 
your  hopes,  and  your  fears  and  your  resolutions, 
and  your  friends,  and  your  brothers,  and  your  sis- 
ters, and  your  mother,  and 

"  Your  own  true  loving  father, 

''  Legii  Richmond." 

It  was  a  maxim  with  Mr.  Richmond,  that  the 
mind  needed  not  idleness  or  frivolity  to  restore  its 
activities,  or  fit  it  for  graver  studies  ;  but  might 
always  find  a  sufficient  relaxation  in  variety :  and 
his  success  in  associating  some  useful  pursuit  with 
the  recreations  of  his  young  people,  proves  the  cor- 
rectness of  his  judgment  in  this  respect. 

The  principal  characteristic,  however,  of  his 
mode  of  education,  was  the  piety  infused  into  every 
employment  or  pleasure.  Whether  in  the  field  or 
in  the  museum,  whether  he  examined  what  was 
beautiful  to  the  eye,  or  indulged  in  what  was  har- 
monious to  the  ear, — whether  he  made  an  experi- 
ment or  related  an  event, — everything  was  connected 
in  his  own  mind  and  in  that  of  his  children,  with 
Him  who  giveth  all  things  richly  to  enjoy ; — every- 
thing afforded  him  an  illustration  of  some  religious 
truth,  or  was  employed  to  inspire  some  devout  aftec- 
tion.  The  connection  of  religion  with  science  was 
a  favorite  topic,  on  which  lie  used  to  enlarge  with 
great  satisfaction.  His  happy  manner,  in  combining 
instruction  with  amusement,  appears  from  the  two 


THE    KALEIDESCOPE.  31 

following  specimens.  The  first  of  these  is  a  medi- 
tation on  the  wonders  of  a  kaleidescope,  and  which 
he  presented  to  his  daughter  F — ,  with  a  view  to 
engage  her  attention  to  this  simple  and  elegant  in- 
strument. "  See,  my  dear  F — ,  what  this  new 
discovery,  which  has  afforded  us  so  much  amuse- 
ment, may  do  to  improve  our  heads  and  hearts. 

*'  I  took  up  my  kaleidescope,  and  as  I  viewed  with 
delight  the  extraordinary  succession  of  beautiful 
images  which  it  presented  to  my  sight,  I  was  struck, 

"  1.  With  the  singular  phenomenon  of  perfect  order 
being  invariably  and  constantly  produced  out  of  per- 
fect disorder, — so  that,  as  by  magical  influence,  con- 
fusion and  irregularity  seemed  to  become  the  pro- 
lific parents  of  symmetry  and  beauty. 

^'2.  It  occurred  to  me,  that  the  universality  of  its 
adoption  would  imperceptibly  lead  to  the  cultivation 
of  the  principles  of  taste,  elegance,  and  beauty 
through  the  whole  of  the  present  and  following  gen- 
erations ;  and  that  from  the  philosopher  and  artist 
down  to  the  poorest  child  in  the  community. 

"3.  I  admired  the  effects  produced  by  new  and 
varied  combinations  of  colors  as  well  as  forms. 
The  analysis  of  this  kind  of  arrangement  is  here  at- 
tended with  unprecedented  facility  and  advantage. 
The  artist,  the  philosopher,  the  admirer  both  of  the 
works  of  nature  and  of  art  may  find  a  source  of 
amusement  almost  peculiar  to  the  use  of  this  in- 
strument. 

"4.  I  saw  a  vast  accession  to  the  sources  of  in- 
vention in  its  application  to  the  elegant  arts  and 
manufactures,  and  the  consequent  growth  of  a  more 


32  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

polished  and  highly  cultivated  state  of  habits,  man- 
ners, and  refinement  in  both. 

"  5.  I  mused  with  deJight  on  the  powers  and 
effects  of  geometrical  arrangement  and  combination, 
so  easily  exhibited  to  the  eye,  and  so  characteristic 
of  the  optical  principle  on  which  the  instrument  is 
constructed. 

"6.  I  was  struck  with  the  idea  of  infinite  variety, 
— more  strikingly  demonstrated  to  the  eye  than  by 
any  former  experiment.  Here  the  sublime  mingles 
with  the  beautiful. 

"  7.  I  perceived  a  kind  of  visible  music.  The 
combination  of  form  and  color  produced  harmony, 
their  succession  melody  ;  thus  Vvdiat  an  organ  or 
'pianoforte  is  to  the  ear,  the  kaleidescope  is  to  tlie 
eye.  I  was  dehghted  with  this  analogy  between  tiie 
senses,  as  exercised  in  this  interestins:  experiment. 

"8.  I  thought  that  God  was  very  good  to  afford 
and  permit  so  innocent  and  gratifying  a  source  of 
recreation  to  all  ranks  of  my  fellow-countrymen, 
arising  partly  from  the  exhibition  of  so  much  love- 
liness to  that  sense  of  sight  which  he  has  formed, 
and  partly  from  the  exercise  of  the  mental  faculties 
of  reason  and  taste  in  meditating  upon  the  beautiful 
vision. 

"  I  laid  my  kaleidescope  down,  and  thought  of  the 
adorable  attributes  of  him  from  whom  all  blessings, 
earthly  and  heavenly,  flow. 

"  I  took  up  my  kaleidescope  again,  and  was  led  in 
the  contemplation  of  its  use  and  beauties  to  think, 

"  1.  Here  I  seem  to  see,  on  the  one  hand,  the  ruin 
and  disorder  of  human  nature,  and  on  the  other,  the 


THE    KALEIDESCOPE.  33 

marvellous  inilucnce  of  grace  in  producing  out  of 
these  materials,  order,  beauty,  and  restoration. 

''  2.  My  instrument  I  compared  to  a  telescope 
glass,  which  faith  and  hope  put  into  my  hand  ; — I 
saw  through  one  end  of  the  tube,  the  world  and  our 
life  in  it,  a  scene  of  confusion  and  tribulation,  strange 
revolutions  and  mysterious  complexities.  Througli 
the  other,  I  beheld  promised  delights,  heavenly  real- 
ities, beauty  for  ashes,  and  the  wilderness  blooming 
like  a  rose.  I  took  the  hint,  and  saw  reasons  for 
resignation,  contentment,  and  patient  waiting  for 
the  glory  that  shall  be  revealed. 

''  3.  I  observed,  as  I  gently  turned  my  instrument 
round,  how  quickly  the  pleasure  of  sense  vanished. 
The  phantom  Vv^hich  delighted  me  but  a  moment 
before  was  gone — forever  gone — irrecoverably  lost ! 
Let  me  not  then,  said  I,  set  my  heart  on  that  which 
so  quickly  taketh  wing  and  fleeth  away.  Such  is 
the  world  and  its  delights. 

^'  4.  But  again  as  I  looked,  new  beauties  con- 
stantly succeeded  those  which  had  passed  away. 
Now  I  thought,  how  does  the  Lord  multiply  his 
mercies  in  constant  variety  and  succession.  In  the 
succession  of  beautiful  configurations  in  my  glass, 
is  an  emblem  of  the  endless  goodness  of  my  God, 
whose  tender  mercies  are  over  all  his  works. 

^'5.  In  this  chaos  of  confusion,  thus  made  to  pro- 
duce beauty  and  order,  I  seem  to  see  a  representa- 
tion of  the  primitive  work  of  the  Great  Creator, 
who,  when  the  earth  was  without  form  and  void, 
sent  forth  his  Spirit,  and  therewith  created  a  uni- 
verse in  all  its  original  perfection. 
2* 


34  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

"  6.  When  I  loolv  at  my  little  fragments  of  glass 
and  stones,  and  observe  how,  from  such  apparently 
despicable  materials,  such  beauty  and  symmetry 
arise,  I  learn  not  to  despise  the  day  of  small  things, 
and  to  count  nothing  unworthy  of  my  notice.  I 
learn  how  God  has  chosen  the  foolish  things  of  this 
world  to  confound  the  wise,  and  base  things  of  this 
world,  and  things  which  are  despised  hath  God 
chosen ;  yea,  things  which  are  not,  to  bring  to 
nought  things  that  are,  that  no  flesh  should  glory  in 
his  presence. 

"  I  concluded  by  reflecting  how  the  works  of  crea- 
tion, the  principles  of  natural  philosophy,  the  dis- 
coveries of  science,  and  the  ingenuities  of  art,  illus- 
trate and  demonstrate  the  attributes  of  the  God  of 
redemption.  My  kaleidescope  shows  me,  in  the 
harmony  of  its  colors,  the  union  of  his  excellencies ; 
in  the  symmetry  of  its  forms,  his  wisdom  ;  in  the 
invariable  efficacy  of  its  principles,  his  faithfulness  ; 
in  the  endless  diversity  of  its  figures,  his  infinity  ; 
in  the  simplicity  of  its  essential  character,  his  unity  ; 
in  its  faculty  of  producing  novelty,  his  power  ;  in 
its  ability  to  delight,  his  goodness  ;  and  in  its  afford- 
ing me  this  opportunity  of  so  seeing  him  in  it,  his 
love. 

"  I  laid  down  my  kaleidescope,  that  I  might  praise 
and  pray  to  the  Author  of  my  mercies." 

The  next  article  was  composed  by  Mr.  R.  to  fix 
the  solar  system  in  the  memory,  for  which  purpose 
he  turned  it  into  verse,  and  as  it  may  be  a  useful 


THE    SOLAR    SVSTEM.  35 

technica  memoria  to  other  children,  it  is  here  pre- 
sented to  them. 

In  this  instance,  also,  it  may  be  observed,  how 
steadily  he  kept  in  view  his  ulterior  design  of  rais- 
ing the  mind  from  the  visible  heavens  to  the  knowl- 
edge and  love  of  Him  whom  the  heaven  of  heavens 
cannot  contain,  but  whose  eternal  power  and  god- 
head, whose  majesty,  wisdom,  and  goodness,  shine 
forth  in  the  things  that  are  made. 

He  used  frequently  to  repeat,  "  The  undevout 
astronomer  is  mad."  He  would  observe,  "  Astro- 
nomy fills  the  mind  with  the  most  elevated  concep- 
tions of  the  magnificence  of  the  Deity,  and  sinks  us 
down,  and  humbles  us  to  the  dust,  with  a  sense  of 
our  own  utter  insignificance,  sensations  mingled 
with  others  of  a  sweet  and  tender  character  in  the 
survey  of  his  benevolence. 

"  Creation  was  Adam's  library  ;  God  bid  him 
read  the  interesting  volumes  of  his  works,  which 
were  designed  to  make  known  the  Divine  character. 
To  gratify  curiosity,  only,  in  the  study  of  the  crea- 
tures, is  to  lose  sight  of  their  end  in  relation  to 
man.  I  would  have  my  dear  children  see  God  in 
everything.  It  is  not  merely  a  transitory  emotion  I 
wish  to  raise  in  their  minds,  but  a  habit  of  referring, 
in  all  they  see,  to  their  Maker  with  delight  and  rev- 
erence. I  will  never  consent  to  shut  God  out  of 
his  own  universe,  or  divorce  science  and  religion, 
which  he  has  joined  together  to  dwell  with  each 
other  in  unity  and  love."^" 

*  In  these  remarks  I  perfectly  concur.  What  indeed  is  religion 
but  a  knowledge  of  God.  with  an  enjoyment  of  him  in  the  affections 


36  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 


THE  SOLAR-  SYSTEM. 

As  we  looked  at  the  skies,  my  dear  children,  last  night, 
And  their  beauties  and  wonders  attracted  our  sight ; 
Of  explaining  their  nature  you  set  me  the  task, 
So  ril  try  to  afford  the  instruction  you  ask. 


In  the  midst  of  our  system  the  Sun  takes  his  place, 

And  brilliantly  shines  through  the  regions  of  space. 

He  illumines  the  planets,  and  by  his  attraction 

Preserves  all  their  motioris  in  regular  action. 

He  turns  round  his  axis  in  twenty-five  days. 

While  his  light  ne'er  decreases,  his  heat  ne'er  decays: 

His  diameter,  viewed  with  the  nicest  attention, 

Proves  near  nine  hundred  thousand  miles  in  dimension 

Around  this  vast  orb  revolutions  are  seen, 

Of  the  planets  eleven,  with  their  moons,  just  eighteen. 


First  Mercury  moves  mid  the  bright  solar  rays, 
Completing  his  orbit  in  eighty-eight  days ; 
The  breadth  of  his  disc,  at  three  thousand  is  given. 
The  distance  of  milhons  of  miles,  thirty-seven. 


of  the  heart.  The  Greeks  use  a  term  (cvSefSna)  to  describe  it, 
which  signifies  a  becoming  reverence.  The  Latins  employ  another 
word  (religio,  a  re  et  Ugoi).  still  more  descriptive  of  its  character, 
which  means  a  reuniting  of  a  part  to  its  whole.  Man  has  been 
torn,  as  it  were,  from  God  by  his  apostacy, — a  creature  separated 
from  the  Creator.  The  business  of  religion,  and  of  all  religious 
education,  is  to  bring  man  back  to  God.  in  his  thoughts,  aflcctions, 
aims,  and  pursuits ;  so  that  spiritually,  as  well  as  naturally,  he  may 
live  and  move,  and  have  his  being  in  God.  Science,  when  em- 
ployed as  the  handmaid  of  religion,  will  be  found  a  most  useful 
auxiliary ;  and  literature  of  every  kind,  especially  such  as  is  con- 
nected with  the  works  or  ways  of  the  Diety,  if  pursued  in  the  spirit 
of  piety,  has  a  tendency  to  improve  and  sanctify  the  heart.  With 
this  view,  Mr.  Richmond  encouraged  his  children  to  study  diligently, 
that  they  might  love  and  serve  God  fervently. 


THE    SOLAR    SYSTEM.  37 


Next  Venus  advances,  with  radiant  smiles, 

From  the  Sun  distant  sixty-nine  milUons  of  miles  ; 

She  revolves  round  her  centre  in  months  about  eight, 

And  compared  with  our  earth  she  in  size  is  as  great : 

In  beauty  resplendent  she  shines  from  afar, 

And  gladdens  the  eye  as  a  morn  or  eve  star, 

THE    KARTII. 

Amidst  this  grand  range  of  celestial  pavilions, 
Next  comes,  at  a  distance  of  ninety-five  millions, 
The  globe  of  the  Earth,  with  its  faithful  attendant, 
Both  alike  on  the  Sun's  gravitation  dependent. 
Earth  revolves,  as  enlightened  by  Sol's  mighty  blaze, 
In  three  hundred  and  sixty  and  five  of  our  days; 
Round  her  axis  impelled  by  omnipotent  power, 
She  turns  and  returns  by  the  twenty-fourth  hour. 
Near  eight  thousand  miles  is  the  breadth  of  her  span, 
And  thus  she  was  form'd  for  the  dwelling  of  man : 
As  the  Sun  rules  by  day,  so  the  Moon  rules  by  night, 
Each  affording  in  turn  their  magnificent  light. 

THE    MOO>f. 

The  Moon's  time  in  her  path  as  the  Earth  she  moves  round, 

Just  twenty -nine  days  and  a  half  will  be  found  ; 

From  the  Earth  she  is  distant,  although  she  seems  near, 

Twenty-four  times  ten  thousand  of  miles  it  is  clear. 

By  the  light  of  the  Sun  her  fair  face  is  adorned. 

While  she  sometimes  is  gibbons  and  sometimes  is  horn'd. 

When  at  full  she's  quite  round,  when  new  she's  not  seen, 

But  whenever  she  shines,  is  of  night  the  gay  queen. 

Of  high  hills  and  deep  vales  she  has  plentiful  store, 

And  her  breadth  of  our  miles  is  two  thousand  and  more. 

By  his  glass,  the  astronomer  clearly  discerns 

In  a  month  round  her  axis  she  statedly  turns. 

Thus  the  Earth  and  her  Moon  are  hnpelled  by  a  force, 

Which  preserves  all  their  motions  in  annual  course. 


Next  revolving  amidst  this  bright  region  of  stars, 
We  behold  in  his  orbit  the  rudd3'-faced  Mars, 


38  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

He  appears  to  move  on  without  lunar  assistance, 
At  a  hundred  and  forty-four  milUons  of  distance. 
While  twenty-four  hours,  like  our  own',  make  his  day, 
Near  two  years  will  accomplish  his  annual  way  : 
His  diameter  measures  four  thousand  and  two, 
And  his  radiance  is  marked  by  its  roseate  hue. 

THR    ASTEROIDS. 

Four  planets  come  next  of  diminutive  size, 
Too  small,  without  aid,  to  be  seen  with  our  eyes  : 
But  the  telescope  proves  of  what  nature  they  are, 
And  discovers  their  motions  as  viewed  from  afar. 
In  order  comes  Vesta,  then  Juno,  then  Ceres, 
Whose  order  to  Pallas  exceedingly  near  is; 
But  these  Asteroids  no  more  shall  absorb. 
The  attention  now  due  unto  Jupiter's  orb. 


Enlightened  by  Sol  with  refulgence  he  smiles. 
Though  distant  near  five  hundred  millions  of  miles  : 
His  splendor  the  Heavens  is  ever  adorning 
As  the  jewel  of  eve,  as  the  herald  of  morning. 
His  diameter  ninety-one  thousand  is  found, 
He  in  less  than  ten  hours  his  own  axis  turns  round  : 
His  magnificent  globe,  as  it  plainly  appears, 
Revolves  round  the  Sun  in  near  twelve  of  our  years  : 
Cloudy  belts  cross  his  surface  in  parallel  lines, 
Yet  through  them  the  planet  with  brilliancy  shines. 
His  constant  companions,  to  cheer  the  dark  night, 
Four  Satellites  lend  him  their  regular  light: 
That  they  truly  revolve,  by  our  glasses  is  seen, 
In  their  periods  or  months  from  two  days  to  sixteen. 


Now  far  beyond  Jupiter  on  we  advance 

And  find  a  whole  system  of  worlds  at  a  glance. 

Seven  Moons  around  Saturn  transcendently  shine, 

Preserved  in  their  orbit  by  impulse  divine. 

Nine  hundred  of  millions  from  Sol  he's  removed, 

So  their  nightly  assistance  is  constantly  proved. 

When  measured,  the  breadth  of  this  planet  is  great, 

In  thousands  of  miles  it  is  seventy-eight : 


THE    SOLAR    SYSTEM.  39 

Twenty-nine  and  a  half  of  our  years  must  be  run 

Ere  Saturn  his  journey  performs  round  the  Sun  ; 

In  fourteen  to  twelve  hours  the  astronomers  say, 

This  planet's  rotation  completes  his  own  day  : 

But  that  which  most  singular  makes  him  appear 

Is  two  luminous  rings  which  encompass  his  sphere  ; 

It  would  seem  that  this  splendor  of  radiance  bound  him, 

As  detached  from  his  orb  they  revolve  both  around  him. 

Heaven  does  not  present  a  more  beautiful  sight 

Than  this  planet — his  rings  and  his  moon  seen  at  night. 

URANUS — HERSCHELL — GEORGIUM-SIDUS. 

But  as  further  we  penetrate  heavenly  regions. 

Where  the  stars  are  abounding  in  multiplied  legions, 

We  meet  with  a  planet  of  magnitude  vast. 

Which  of  those  yet  discovered  is  reckoned  the  last. 

Call  it  Uranus,  Herschell,  or  Georgium-sidus, 

A  sight  of  his  disc  without  help  is  denied  us. 

But  when  brought  by  the  aid  of  the  telescope  near 

His  surface  is  manifest,  beauteous,  and  clear. 

Eighteen  hundred  millions  removed  from  the  Sun, 

It  is  eighty-four  years  ere  his  orbit  is  run, 

Thirty-four  thousand  miles  is  his  breadth  'tis  maintained. 

Of  his  motions  diurnal  no  knowledge  is  gained. 

Six  bright  beaming  moons  shed  their  rays  o'er  his  night, 

Like  himself,  from  the  Sun,  all  deriving  their  light. 

THE  COMETS. 

But  still  we  pursue  astronomical  song, 

As  not  planets  alone  to  our  system  belong. 

Many  hundreds  of  Comets,  in  orbits  most  strange, 

By  solar  attraction  obediently  range, 

With  their  fringes  of  hair,  their  long  fiery  tails, 

W^henever  they're  seen  admiration  prevails  : 

But  their  lengthened  elliptical  path  in  the  sky 

The  powers  of  Astronomy  seem  to  defy. 

So  short  is  their  stay,  they  escape  observation 

On  which  we  can  ground  a  correct  calculation. 

They've  so  come  and  so  gone,  so  appear'd  and  so  vanished, 

That  successful  prediction  they've  hitherto  banished. 


40  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

CONCLUSION. 

To  the  system  named  Solar,  I  call  your  attention, 

Of  the  stars  which  are  fixed  I  shall  now  waive  the  mention. 

But  while  their  instruction  I  have  sought  to  impart, 

I  have  wished  to  inspire  the  best  thoughts  in  your  heart. 

With  deep  veneration,  O  lift  up  your  eyes 

And  contemplate  these  works  of  the  God  of  the  skies : 

He  formed  them,  he  governs,  he  guides  every  motion, 

And  by  them  he  summons  each  soul  to  devotion. 

The  firmament  showeth  the  work  of  his  hand, 

Such  wisdom  and  power  adoration  command. 

Each  planet  revolves,  and  each  comet  appears. 

To  exalt  the  great  God  of  our  days  and  our  years. 

Not  a  star  but  its  lustre  shall  loudly  proclaim 

The  magnificent  praise  of  his  excellent  name. 

Join  the  chorus  above,  and  let  glory  be  given 

To  him  that  directs  both  on  earth  and  in  heaven. 


Many  advantages  were  obtained  by  the  intro- 
duction of  popular  science  into  my  friend's  family 
circle  as  an  amusement  ;  a  dislike  of  low  and  vul- 
gar pursuits  was  inspired,  an  occupation  found  for 
every  moment,  and  materials  procured  for  useful 
conversation  in  their  private  intercourse ;  full  em- 
ployment and  improving  pursuits  are  favorable  to 
morality  and  religion  ;  nor  is  it  necessary  to  allow 
children,  even  in  their  pastimes,  to  be  more  childish 
than  a  childish  age  requires.  The  notion  is  injuri- 
ous to  them,  that  a  waste  of  time  is  felicity,  and  its 
profitable  employment  an  ungrateful  necessity.  Nor 
can  eminence  be  expected  in  anything  in  which  the 
heart  is  not  ens^as^ed.  It  should  therefore  be  the 
constant  effort  of  a  teacher  to  interest  while  he 
instructs,  and  to  bring  the  hour  of  recreation  into 
unison  with  that  of  the  school  room,  making  it  sub- 
servient to  it.     It  was  my  friend's  anxious  desire 


THE    SOLAR    SYSTEM.  41 

and  sedulous  endeavor  to  sret  the  heart  on  the  side 
of  truth,  to  infuse  an  innocent  prepossession  in  its 
favor,  and  make  duty  enjoyment.  It  was  often 
said  by  the  members  of  his  family,  "  We  love  relig- 
ion, because  we  see  papa  so  lovely  and  happy  under 
its  influence !" 


CHAPTER   III. 

A  mans  nature  runs  either  to  herlis  or  weeds,  therefore  let  him  seasonably 
water  the  one  and  destroy  the  other.— Bacon. 

With  so  many  resources  of  innocent  and  im- 
proving amusement,  Mr.  R.'s  young  people  felt  no 
regret  at  the  interdict  which  their  father  placed  on 
all  games  of  chance,  on  fishing,  field  sports,  dancing, 
the  theatre,  oratorios,  and  other  sources  of  grat- 
ification, which  he  thought  to  be  inconsistent  with 
the  spirit  of  religion,  connected  with  much  evil,  and 
a  preparation  for  it.  I  have  heard  him  say,  "  Even 
where  there  is  no  positive  evil,  I  think  it  important 
to  draw  a  strong  line  of  demarcation  between  the 
church  and  the  world.  The  mixed  multitude  set 
the  Israelites  a  lusting  after  the  flesh-pots  of  Egypt ; 
and  evil  communications  never  fail  to  corrupt  good 
manners.  There  may  be  no  sin  in  dancing,  but  it 
is  a  preparation  for  appearing  hereafter  where  I 
think  there  is  scarcely  anything  else.  Cards  are  a 
waste  of  time  which  may  be  much  better  employed  ; 
and  they  are  too  nearly  allied  to  the  gaming-table, 
which  fills  me  with  horror.  To  field  sports  I  have 
a  still  more  decided  objection  :  they  are  defended 
on  the  ground  of  promoting  health  ;  but  whatever 
benefit  the  body  may  receive,  it  is  at  the  expense 
of  the  soul.  I  know  not  on  what  principles  a  man 
can  justify  the  taking  away  life  for  his  amusement : 


USUAL  AMUSEMENTS  EXCLUDED. 


43 


God  alJows  him  to  kill  animals  for  food,  or  to  de- 
stroy them  when  they  prove  an  annoyance  to  him  : 
but  I  can  find  no  authority  in  the  Bible  for  deriving- 
enjoyment  in  the  infliction  of  a  cruel  death  ; — it  is 
right  founded  on  might, — a  mere  act  of  tyranny, 
and  an  abuse  of  power.  The  man  who  should  whip 
a  beast  to  death,  or  cut  him  up  alive,  like  an  Abys- 
sinian savage,  would  be  deemed  a  monster ;  yet 
the  same  man  may  hunt  to  death,  and  halloo,  and 
exult  with  satisfaction,  while  his  dogs  are  tearing  to 
pieces  a  defenceless  animal,  and  yet  be  considered 
a  gentleman  and  a  Christian.  Then  there  are  the 
after-events  of  the  day  ; — and  surely  to  spend  five 
or  six  hours  in  the  evening  commending  the  bark 
of  a  cur,  or  descanting  on  the  movements  of  a  fox 
to  elude  his  pursuers,  is  unworthy  an  intelligent 
being,  even  if  there  were  no  worse  accompani- 
ments." 

I  asked  him  if  he  thought  shooting  equally  objec- 
tionable. He  replied  : — "  Shooting  may  not  issue 
in  all  the  results  of  hunting  ;  but  I  should  be  mis- 
erable all  the  while  my  boys  were  scampering  over 
the  fields  with  a  gun.  Sad  accidents  are  contin- 
ually occurring  from  letting  young  people  carry 
fire-arms  :  but  my  great  objection  to  all  these  sports 
is  the  same  ;  I  cannot  think  it  right  to  seek  gratifi- 
cation in  inflicting  suffering  and  death.  I  know 
that  God  has  given  us  the  creatures  for  our  suste- 
nance, and  it  is  lawful  to  use  them  to  this  end  ; 
but  with  my  views  and  principles,  I  find  it  hard  to 
conceive  a  right-minded  man  feeling  pleasure  while 
he  inflicts  pain.     He  would  rather  be  disposed  to 


44  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

say  with  an  old  writer,  '  I  can  never  eat  my  dinner 
when  I  remember  that  I  am  living  by  the  death  of 
a  creature  which  my  sin  has  destroyed.'  As  for 
exercise,  we  might  surely  find  other  pursuits  for  this 
purpose.  There  appears  to  me  the  same  delusion 
in  the  argument  which  has  sometimes  been  em- 
ployed to  defend  shooting,  as  in  that  which  is  urged 
by  card  players, — we  must  have  a  stake,  however 
small,  or  we  shall  lose  all  interest  in  the  game. 
Surely  we  might  walk  as  far  and  as  long  as  we 
pleased  for  exercise,  without  a  gun.  Pascal  ex- 
plains the  whole  matter,  when  he  says,  '  A  man  is 
not  running  after  the  game,  but  trying  to  run  away 
from  himself  The  race-ground  presents  such  a 
scene  of  folly  and  knavery  that  it  does  not  deserve 
a  serious  argument.  The  stage  abounds  with  cvery- 
thiuGj  wdiich  is  offensive  to  the  mind  of  a  Christian. 
What  think  you  of  a  celebrated  tragedian,  who 
forbade  her  daughter  to  connect  herself  with  the 
theatre, — surely  this  speaks  volumes.  Did  it  never 
strike  you  that  an  actor  (unoitQin^g)  has  given  a  name 
to  the  worst  of  vices. 

"  Fishing  is  generally  deemed  a  harmless  amuse- 
ment, but  I  cannot  allow  it  to  be  a  fit  recreation  for 
a  Christian.  What  are  we  to  think  of  impaling  a 
worm,  and  being  highly  delighted  while  the  poor 
creature  sufiers  exquisite  torture  for  our  sport.  If 
we  use  an  artificial  bait,  yet  is  time,  the  precious 
hours  of  life,  so  valueless  that  we  can  afford  to 
throw  away  half  or  a  whole  day  in  this  trifhng  ?" 

"  What  is  your  opinion  of  oratorios  ?"  "  My 
fondness,"  he  re{)lied,  "  for  music  may  be  supposed 


USUAL    AMUSEMENTS    EXCLUDED.  45 

to  make  me  a  partial  judge  in  this  case.  I  see  no 
objection  to  a  concert  when  the  music  is  properly 
selected,  yet  I  am  jealous  of  this  sort  of  amusement, 
and  should  think  it  necessary  to  be  very  cautious 
in  encouraging  a  taste  for  public  exhibition  of  any 
kind.  We  never  attend  oratorios  in  a  church.  I 
consider  it  a  desecration  of  the  house  of  God  to  use 
it  for  any  purpose  but  that  of  religion ;  it  shocks  me 
to  hear  clappings  and  noisy  expressions  of  pleasure 
when  a  passage  of  scripture  and  the  name  of  God 
is  made  a  vehicle  for  mere  amusement.  It  is  ab- 
surd to  talk  of  devotional  feelings  on  such  occasions. 
As  to  all  these  things,  1  think  that  God  has  given 
us  immortal  souls  to  prepare  for  heaven.  People 
may  cry.  What  great  harm  in  this  or  in  that  ?  They 
may  have  a  plausible  pretext  for  doing  what  I 
condemn ;  for  there  is  nothing,  however  absurd  or 
wicked,  which  will  want  an  advocate  or  an  argu- 
ment to  support  it.  I  lay  down  this  general  rule  for 
all  occupations.  Whatever  has  a  tendency  to  fit  my 
children  for  heaven  I  approve,  but  I  must  keep 
aloof  from  everything  which  is  likely  to  be  a  snare 
or  a  temptation  to  them,  and  indispose  their  minds 
to  a  serious  and  steady  pursuit  of  their  great  ob- 
ject. 

"  Did  you  ever  hear  of  a  bishop  on  the  race- 
ground  or  in  a  theatre  ?  W^ould  he  not  disgrace 
Jiimself  even  in  the  eyes  of  the  world  by  being 
present  at  such  places  ?  Why  so  ?  Because  he 
ivould  be  out  of  character.  The  universal  suffrage 
denounces  these  amusements  as  inconsistent  with 
a  heavenly  mind,  and  the  sacred  office  of  a  spiritual 


46  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

guide.  Surely  this  is  the  strongest  censure  on  the 
amusements  themselves ;  it  is  in  fact  saying,  the 
more  heavenly  the  man  the  more  unsuitable  are 
such  things  to  his  character. 

"  I  have  often  thought  that  a  Christian  by  profes- 
sion, who  allowed  himself  in  the  indulgence  of  such 
things  as  have  furnished  the  subject  of  our  conver- 
sation, must  be  at  a  loss  how  to  describe  the  pomps 
and  the  vanities  of  this  wicked  world,  which  he  has 
renounced  at  his  baptism." 

These  remarks  may  excite  a  smile,  as  childish 
scrupulosities,  or  a  sneer,  as  mere  fanaticism ;  but 
hard  names  are  bad  substitutes  for  solid  arg-uments. 
It  will  not  be  easy  to  satisfy  a  sober  reflecting 
mind,  that  Mr.  Richmond's  judgment  was  weak  or 
superstitious. 

Before  we  leave  the  subject  of  amusement,  I 
shall  advert  to  another  kind  of  recreation,  which 
Mr.  R.  provided  for  his  young  people ; — the  cel- 
ebration of  birth-days.  On  his  own  birth-day  he 
attended  divine  service,  when  he  preached  a  sermon 
to  his  congregation,  and  endeavored  to  improve 
the  lapse  of  time  by  acts  of  prayer  and  praise.  The 
summons  was  cheerfully  obeyed,  and  the  parish  bells 
rung  merrily.  Great  numbers  attended  church  to 
worship  God  and  congratulate  their  pastor  on 
the  occasion.  In  the  course  of  the  day  he  always 
wrote  to  his  mother,  while  she  was  alive,  and  affec- 
tionately reminded  her  and  himself  of  their  en- 
deared connection.  On  the  day  following,  he  in- 
vited a  party   of  his   parishioners   to   dine   at  the 


KEEPING    OF    BIRTH-DAYS.  47 

rectory.  This  birth-day  entertainment  was  looked 
forward  to  by  them  with  great  interest,  and  was 
made  an  occasion  of  courteous  hosjoitality.  The 
company  was  of  a  mixed  character,  and  was  re- 
ceived by  Mr.  R.  with  a  kindness  and  attention  to 
their  innocent  recreation,  which  never  failed  to 
gratify  his  guests.  The  evening  was  spent  in  music, 
and  his  family  formed  a  little  band  of  performers 
in  full  concert.  The  birth-days  of  his  children  were 
kept  with  no  less  reverence  to  religion,  though  in  a 
more  private  manner.  He  commended  them  to 
God  for  his  blessing  and  favor.  He  wrote  each 
of  them  a  letter  of  congratulation,  usually  accom- 
panied by  a  present  of  some  useful  kind.  The  day 
was  spent  in  innocent  festivity,  and  the  evening 
was  employed  in  the  museum,  where  he  gave  a 
lecture  on  experimental  philosophy.  These  seasons 
were  anticipated  by  the  children  with  much  de- 
light, and  their  recurrence  contributed,  in  a  great 
degree,  to  promote  the  harmony  of  the  family,  by 
a  reciprocity  of  affectionate  interest  amongst  its 
members. 

I  shall  here  transcribe  a  letter  or  two,  as  speci- 
mens of  Mr.  Richmond's  birth-day  correspondence. 


TO  IVIY  K- 


"  Let  not  my  loved  little  K suppose  that  her 

father  forgets  her.     Yaxham  may  seem  a  long  dis- 
tance from  Turvey  ;  Glasgow  is  much  greater,  but 

*  The  birth-day  was  kept  as  usual  though  the  child  was  absent ; 
but  whether  absent  or  present  a  letter  of  congratulation  was  writ- 
ten on  the  occasion. 


48  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

in  neither  place  can  my  heart  forget  my  child.  I 
remember  you  a  little  babe  in  arms.  I  loved  you 
then.  I  remember  you  lying  in  your  little  cot,  and 
I  swung  you  there,  and  loved  you  the  while. 

•'  I  recollect  your  first  attempts  to  walk,  and 
your  many  consequent  little  downfalls.  I  raised 
you  up  from  your  stumblings  and  your  tumblings  ; 
I  dried  your  tears,  and  loved  you  still  more.  I 
have  not  forgotten  your  endeavors  to  talk,  nor  your 
droll  little  prattlings ;  nor  your  first  calling  me 
Papa,  and  dearly  I  loved  you  for  it :  and  although 
these  things  have  long  since  passed  away,  and  time 

has  added  to  your  years,  my  love  for  my  K is 

not  diminished.  I  often  see  you  in  imagination, 
and  draw  fanciful  pictures  of  your  occupations  in 
your  new  dwelling ;  but  what  is  my  love  compared 
with  that  of  your  heavenly  Father.  What  is  the 
strongest  earthly  aflection,  wdien  contrasted  with 
that  which  said,  '  Suffer  little  children  to  come 
unto  me,  and  forbid  them  not,  for  of  such  is  the 
kingdom  of  heaven.'  Has  my  child's  heart  an 
earnestness,  a  real  unfeigned  earnestness,  to  share 
in  the  love  of  such  a  Father,  and  to  come  when 
so  mercifully  called  to  such  a  Saviour  ?  By  nature 
'  foolishness  is  bound  up  in  the  heart  of  a  child  ;' 
nevertheless  by  grace  a  young  child's  heart  may 
become  the  temple  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  the 
residence  of  God  himself.  Think  of  little  Jane, 
the  Young  Cottager.  May  you  resemble  her  in 
wdiatever  she  resembled  Christ.  She  was  a  dear 
little  girl,  and  I  wish  there  were  thousands  more 
like  her.     Many  have  been  made  sensible  of  their 


BIRTH-DAY    LETTERS.  49 

sinful  state  while  reading  that  story,  and,  through 
the  blessing  of  God,  have  been  brought  to  love  the 
same  Redeemer,  and  lived  and  died  rejoicing  in, 
their  Saviour.  I  hope,  my  child,  you  pray  not 
only  with  your  lips,  but  with  your  heart.  While 
you  are  actively  and  dutifully  employed  in  acquir- 
ing useful  knowledge,  ^  be  fervent  in  spirit,  serving 
the  Lord.'  In  a  little  time  you  will  be  in  your 
teens,  and  the  very  sound  of  that  word  should 
awaken  you  not  to  the  usual  folly  and  vanity  of 
this  period  of  life,  but  to  the  responsibility  of  grow- 
ing years  and  increasing  privileges ;  to  the  cultiva- 
tion of  holy  learning  and  Christian  habits ;  to  the 
love  of  Jesus  and  communion  with  his  Spirit.  It 
is  my  prayer,  let  it  be  yoiifs.     And  now  farewell, 

my  dear  K .     May  you  realize  every  fond  hope, 

temporal,  spiritual,  and  eternal,  of 

"  Your  affectionate  father, 

'^  L.  R." 

The  following  letter  was  written  the  year  after, 
and  on  a  similar  occasion : 

"to    my    K — ,    ON    HER    BIRTH-DaY. 

"  Accept  a  birth-day  blessing  from  your  affection- 
ate father,  my  dearest  K : — a  father  who  loves 

you  with  all  his  heart  and  soul.  This  day  thirteen 
years  brought  you  into  a  world  of  sins,  sorrows, 
mercies,  hopes,  and  fears :  surely  it  is  a  day  much 
to  be  remembered ;  not  so  much  by  feastings  and 
twelfth  cakes,  as  by  prayers  and  supplications  to 
the  God  and  Father  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  that 

3 


50  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

he  would  grant  you  grace  to  put  away  the  follies 
of  childhood,  and  to  enter  upon  what  is  commonly 
called  your  '  teens'  with  a  clean  heart  and  a  right 
spirit.  May  my  dear  child  be  a  vessel  of  mercy, 
filled  with  all  the  blessings  of  the  spirit  of  God,  and 
fitted  for  a  happy  eternity.  May  the  love  of  Jesus 
warm  your  heart  with  every  affection  which  can 
adorn  the  Christian  name  and  character.  May 
your  early  attainments  at  this  period  of  diligent 
childhood  prepare  you  to  be  the  comfort  and  prop 
of  your  parents  in  their  advancing  years,  if  life  be 
spared  to  them.  Be  conscientious  in  all  you  do. 
Idleness  and  inattention  to  instruction  always  prove 
that  something  is  very  wrong  in  the  principle.  Dil- 
igence in  the  improvement  of  your  mind  is  a  trib- 
ute of  obedience  both  to  God  and  your  parents.  I 
rejoice  to  hear  from  your  kind  governess  that  you 
improve  in  this  respect.  I  trust,  my  dear  child,  we 
shall  never  receive  any  intimation  of  your  failure 
in  so  important  a  matter.  If  you  love  those  at 
home,  (and  I  am  persuaded  you  do  love  them  ten- 
derly,) ever  strive  to  make  them  happy  and  easy  on 
your  account.  I  need  not  tell  you  that  every  one 
round  our  fire-side  unites  with  me  in  the  congratu- 
lations of  this  day.     There  is  but  one  lieart  amongst 

us.     M and  H mention  your  birth-day  in 

their  letters.  Our  Christian  circle  is  reduced  Vvdien 
three  daughters  are  absent,  but  love,  memory,  and 
imagination  often  bring  them  all  together,  and  half 
fill  the  vacant  chairs  which  they  used  to  occupy. 
Your  brother  Nugent  has  been  mercifully  preserved 
from  an  awful  shipwreck  in  India  :  the  vessel  was 


BIRTH-DAY    LETTERS.  51 

totally  lost,  but  all  the  lives  saved,  and  he  has  got 
a  station  in  another  ship. — "  They  that  go  down  to 
the  sea  in  ships, — that  do  business  in  great  waters, 
— these  see  the  works  of  the  Lord,  and  his  won- 
ders in  the  deep."  (Psalm  cvii.  23 — 31.)     And  now 

my  K ,  with  a  repetition  of  every  wish,  prayer, 

and  blessing,  believe  me 

"Your  affectionate  father, 

''L.  R." 

To  C^ •  (when  a  very  little  girl). 

"  Perhaps  my  dear  little  C thought  she  was 

too  young  to  receive  a  letter ;  but  you  see  I  have 
not  forgotten  you,  nor  L — = —  either,  for  whom  you 
may  tear  off  the  other  half  of  this  sheet,  and  if  he 
cannot  read  it  himself,  some  one  will  read  it  to 
him.  I  wish  very  much  to  know  how  you  are  be- 
having since  I  saw  you.  What  character  will  your 
pen  and  your  needle  give  of  you  when  I  ask  them  ? 
and  what  will  your  book  say  ?  Your  play-things, 
perhaps,  will  whisper  that  you  have  been  very  fond 
of  them  ;  well,  a  little  fond  of  them  you  may  be, 
but  you  must  not  think  only  of  them,  my  little 
nursery  queen.  There  are  better  things  than  play- 
things in  the  world, — there  are  mammas,  and 
mamma's  commandments,  and  papas,  and  papa's 
wishes,  and  sisters,  and  sister's  instructions  ;  and 
there  is  the  Bible,  and  the  God  of  the  Bible,  and 
Jesus  Christ  and  his  salvation.  My  little  girl  must 
think  of  these  things,  and  be  an  example  to  her 
young  brothers,  in  order,  obedience,  and  good  man- 
ners, &c. 


52  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

"  You  are  now  at  that  age  when  Jesus  '  in- 
creased in  wisdom  and  stature,  and  in  favor  with 
God  and  man.'  Meditate  on  this.  I  am  glad  to 
think  you  are  acquiring  knowledge ;  but  ever  keep 
in  mind,  that  all  other  knowledge  is  valuable  or 
not,  just  so  far  as  it  is  united  to  spiritual  knowl- 
edge. The  word  of  God  and  its  blessings  form  the 
highest  study  of  man.  May  my  children  grow  in 
such  knowledge.  Farewell,  my  child,  try  in  every- 
thing to  please 

"  Your  dear  Papa. 

"  P.  S.  I  send  a  box  of  changeable  ladies  to  amuse 
you,  but  I  do  not  wish  you  to  become  one  of  the 
changeable  ladies : — yet  my  heart  prays  that  you 
may  prove  a  changed  soul." 

"To  C . 


"  I  cannot  let  a  parcel  go  to  Y without  tell- 
ing my  dear  C- how  much  her  father  loves  her. 

This  is  a  day  of  grateful  recollections,  and  hopeful 
anticipations.  God  bless  my  child.  May  she  grow 
in  grace  with  increasing  years  :  may  she  be  diligent 
in  her  studies,  docile  in  disposition,  devotionally  fer- 
vent in  spirit,  and  unwearied  in  well-doing  ! 

"  My  anxieties  have  been  great  since  I  saw  you. 
My  heart  has  so  clung  to  my  dear  boy  that  every 
tender  feeling  and  affection  has  been  exercised  in 
the  separation  from  my  beloved  Wilberforce,  but 
the  loss  has  not  diminished  but  increased  my  love 
to  the  endeared  childi'cn  whom  God  still  spares  to 
me.     I  cannot  say  one  thousandth  part  of  what  I 


BIRTII-DAY    LETTERS.  53 

would  on  this  subject,  but  my  heart  prays  that  you 
may  all  grow  in  the  knowledge  of  Him  with  whom 
his  soul  now  lives  in  blessedness.  I  hope  much 
good  has  arisen  to  your  brothers  and  sisters  at  home 
from  the  sanctified  effect  of  this  heavy  trial.     May 

my  C— feel  it  likewise,  and  so  experience  the 

power  of  real  religion  in  her  heart,  that  it  may  appear 
in  her  life  and  conversation.  I  am  very  anxious  on 
this  subject.  A  great  work  of  gi'acious  awakening 
has  taken  place  in  the  village,  in  connection  with 
Wilberforce's  happy  end.  Many  careless  souls  are 
surprisingly  changed.  This  is  a  mercy, — an  un- 
speakable mercy  to  n:ie  as  their  minister.  Oh  !  I 
want  all  my  children  to  share  abundantly  in  these 
dews  of  heavenly  grace.  I  earnestly  covet  for  them 
these  best  gifts.  Others  will  have  told  you  by  this 
parcel  how  much  they  love  you.  This  letter  can 
but  very  feebly  say  how  dear  you  are  in  the  love  of 
a.  Saviour. 

''  From  your  affectionate  father, 

'^L.  R." 

"  My  much  loved  boy, 

"  You  expressed  some  disappointment  at  dinner, 
because  you  had  not  received  your  dear  mamma's 
promised  letter  on  your  birth-day.  What  has  been 
the  cause  of  the  failure  I  know  not,  but  I  will  try 
to  compensate  for  the  disappointment  by  giving  you 
a  few  lines.  The  return  of  a  birth-day,  when  rightly 
viewed,  is  a  subject  for  very  serious  meditation :  I 
wish  it  may  prove  so  to  you.  We  have  seen,  in  the 
death  of  your  dear  brother,  how  little  health  and 


54  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

strength  are  to  be  trusted.  Childhood,  and  youth, 
and  time,  are  swiftly  passing  onward,  and  our  jour- 
ney through  this  vale  of  tears,  whether  longer  or 
shorter,  will  soon  bo  over.  Can  you  too  early  learn 
the  value  and  importance  of  time  ?  Will  you  not 
hear  the  counsel  of  a  father,  and  meditate  on  those 
things  which  belong  to  your  everlasting  peace  ? 
You  have  an  immortal  soul,  to  be  lost  or  saved  for- 
ever. You  have  an  understandins",  to  distinsfuish 
between  good  and  evil.  You  are  therefore  a  respon- 
sible being,  who  must  render  an  account  of  the  deeds 
done  in  the  body,  whether  they  be  good  or  whether 
they  be  evil.  Childhood  is  the  period  when  the 
character  and  habits  of  the  future  man  are  formed. 
Trifle  not  therefore  with  your  childish  days.  Set  a 
firm  and  valuable  example  to  your  younger  brother  : 
he  mil  more  or  less  imitate  your  ways  and  disposi- 
tions, be  they  better  or  worse.  Remember !  the  eye 
of  God  is  upon  you  in  every  place.  Be  where  you 
will,  do  what  you  will,  you  may  always  say  with 
Hacrarin  the  wilderness — 'Thou  God  scest  me.'  I 
have  of  late  known  but  little,  too  little,  of  your  state 
of  mind  and  your  views  of  things,  temporal  and 
spiritual.  I  have  had  occasional  uneasiness  on  this 
subject.  You  ought  ever  to  be  putting  forth  the 
energies  of  your  mind  in  every  proper  and  possible 
way.  It  is  time  that  your  attention  should  be 
drawn  to  your  future  station  in  life,  whatever  prov- 
idence may  design  it  to  be.  Every  day  and  every 
hour  should  bear  witness  to  some  progress  and  im- 
provement in  useful  learning,  and  above  all,  in  that 
knowledge  which  makoth  wise  unto  salvation.     You 


BIRTH-DAY    LETTERS.  55 

have  on  all  subjects  much  to  learn,  and  it  will  not 
be  acquired  without  much  labor,  and  firm  deter- 
mination of  mind  and  talent  to  the  acquirement. 
What  may  be  the  inclination  of  your  own  mind  as 
to  business,  profession,  or  occupation,  I  know  not : 
but  I  wish  3~ou  most  seriously  to  take  this  s.ubject 
into  deliberate  consideration,  and  let  me  in  due 
time  know  the  result,  that  I  may  give  you  counsel 
and  advice.  In  the  mean  time,  a  thirst  for  useful 
knowledge,  and  a  laborious  attention  to  its  attain- 
ment, will  best  evidence  your  fitness  for  that  state 
of  life  into  which  it  may  please  God  to  call  you. 
But  you  can  do  nothing  well  without  faith  and 
prayer, — without  much  anxious  reading  of  the  Holy 
Scriptures.  This  reminds  me  of  your  dear  brother, 
"Wilberforce.  He  left  upon  record,  amongst  you 
all.  Ids  testimony  to  the  value  and  necessity  of 
reading  the  v/ord  of  God;  and  it  is  my  heart's 
prayer  and  desire  that  all  my  loved  children  may 
follow  his  example  and  his  dying  exhortations.  The 
.season  of  the  year  is  fast  advancing  which  brings 
all  the  affections  and  solemnities  of  his  latter  end 
to  view.  Every  day  of  the  approaching  fortnight 
brings  to  remembrance  the  various  events  of  his 
last  days.  They  are  all  indelibly  fastened  on  my 
heart's  memory  ;  they  live,  glow,  and  burn  there 
with  a  vividness  of  impression,  of  which  none  can 
be  aware,  and  form  a  daily  part  of  my  very  self. 
But  I  refer  to  them  now  for  my  dear  Legh's  sake. 
I  have  lost  my  two  eldest  boys,  and  am  deeply  so- 
licitous that  those  who  remain  to  me  should  be 
devoted  to  God ;  and,  if  spared,  become  the  props 


56  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

and  solace  of  my  advancing  years.  It  is  indeed 
time,  my  Legh,  that  you  should  feel  the  importaiiCG 
of  such  considerations.  You  were  named  Scrlo 
after  one  of  the  most  holy  and  excellent  men  v/itb 
whom  I  was  ever  acquainted.  Mere  Christian 
names  can  confer  no  grace  ;  but  I  may  be  per- 
mitted to  wish,  and  hope,  and  pray,  that  you  may^ 
by  divine  grace,  resemble  him,  and  follow  him  as 
he  followed  Christ.  '  The  Christian  Remem- 
brancer,' '  The  Horoe  Solitaria?,'  '  The  Christian 
Parent,'  and  many  other  admirable  books  bear 
testimony  to  his  piety  and  talents :  '  lie  being 
dead  yet  speaketh.'  And  now,  my  child,  may 
every  blessing  attend  you,  for  this  world  and  the 
next,  for  time  and  for  eternity.  May  the  return  of 
this  birth-day  remind  you  of  many  an  important 
duty  and  principle.  Look  into  the  real  state  of 
your  heart,  and  never  be  afraid  or  ashamed  to 
make  me  acquainted  with  it.  '  Tiie  end  of  all 
things  is  at  hand,  be  ye  therefore  sober  and  watch 
unto  prayer.'  The  heart  that  now  loves  and  watch- 
es over  you  on  earth,  may  ere  long,  and  must,  in 
time,  become  cold  in  the  grave  :  but  seek  him  who 
never  dieth,  and  his  love  which  never  decayeth,  and 
all  shall  be  well  with  you  here  and  hereafter.  So 
counsels  and  prays 

''  Your  affectionate  Father, 

''  Legii  Richmond." 

I  have  mentioned  Mr.  R.'s  correspondence  with 
his  mother  on  his  own  birth-day.  After  her  decease 
he  wi'ote  on  this  occasion  the  foUowia-x  letter  to  his 


BIRTH-DAY    LETTERS.  57 

eldest  daughter,  who  was  united  to  an  excellent 
and  valuable  minister  in  the  established  church  of 
Scotland. 

"  My  very  dear  daughter, 

"  Through  many  a  returning  year  I  wrote  to  my 
dear  and  venerated  mother  on  my  birth-day.     She 
is  gone  to  her   rest,  and  I  can  only  communicate 
with  her  in  grateful  recollection  and  hopeful  antici- 
pation.    To  whom  can  I  now  address  myself  with 
more    propriety    and    love,    on    such    an    occasion, 
than  to  my  absent,  distant,  but  much-loved  child. — 
My  child,  so  mercifully  restored  to  health  after  so 
severe  an  ilhiess  and  so  much  danger,  my  thoughts 
and  prayers  have  been  unceasing   respecting  you. 
I  have  endeavored  patiently  to  wait  upon  the  Lonl, 
and  he  hath  heard  my  prayer.     I  have  viewed  this 
trying  dispensation  as  sent  of  God  for  some  great 
and  good  purpose,  to  your  owti  and  to  all  our  souls  ; 
and  I  trust  we  shall  find  it  so.     You  will  have  to 
learn  to  glorify  God  in  the  fires,*  and  magnify  the 
God  of  your  salvation  .  to  see  the  precarious  tenure 
of  human  life,  and  to  devote  your  restored  powers 
of  mind  and  body  to  him  from  whom  you  have 

received  both.     O  my  dear  M ,  what  a  God  he 

is,  and  what  a  redemption  he  has  wrought  for  sin- 
ners !  See  in  your  own  recent  trial  an  emblem  of 
Christ's  love ; — yourself  a  brand  plucked  from  the 
burning, — saved,  yet  so  as  by  fire, — raised  from 
weakness  to  strength, — tempest- tost  and  affficted, 

*  Mrs.  M.  had  been  suffering  from  an  accident  by  fire, 
3* 


58  PAAIILY    PORTRAITURE. 

yet  preserved, — cast  down,  but  not  destroyed.  It 
is  the  heart's  desire  and  prayer  to  God  of  your 
father,  on  his  birth-day,  that  all  these  things  may 
work  together  for  your  good,  temporal  and  spiritual. 
It  is  a  day  which  I  always  contemplate  with  much 
tender  affection,  and  my  thoughts  are  such  as  I 
cannot  utter.  Life,  death,  and  eternity  spread  a 
vision  before  me,  and  I  meditate  with  solemnity 
and  deep  humiliation.  I  have  lived  now  more  than 
half  a  century.  On  the  past  I  look  with  much 
repentance  for  my  sins,  and  much  gratitude  for  my 
mercies.  Of  the  future  I  know  nothing,  except  that 
my  times  are  in  God's  hands,  and  that  is  enough. 
But  my  responsibilities  make  me  often  tremble. 
They  rise  like  mountains  before  me ;  but  I  lift  up 
my  eyes  to  the  hi] Is  from  whence  cometh  my  help, 
and  the  mountains  of  difficulty  become  plains,  and 
the  rough  places  smooth.  Amongst  my  mercies  I 
feel  peculiarly  thankful  for  the  union  of  my  dear 
child  with  such  a  man  and  such  a  minister  as  Mr. 

M .     This  doubly  endears  Scotland  to  my  heart. 

I  have  formed  many  valuable  friendships,  and  re- 
ceived many  kind  favors  from  its  inhabitants.  I 
have  delighted  in  its  scenery  and  tasted  many  ex- 
cellent fruits  of  its  piety  :  but  to  have  a  daughter 
placed  in  the  midst  of  Scotia's  hills  and  plains 
renders  the  land  peculiarly  interesting  to  me. 

"  May  every  day  add  to  your  strength  and  com- 
fort. May  you  and  I,  not  only  as  parent  and  child, 
but  as  fellow-pilgrims  on  the  road  to  Zion,  walk 
lovingly,  congenially,  and  safely  to  the  end  of  our 


CHOICE    OF    COMFA.MONS.  59 

journey.     I  hope,  if  God  spare  me,  to  see  you  in 
the  spring,  but  whether  here  or  there,  I  am  ever 
•'  Your  affectionate  father, 

From  the  amusement  of  leisure  hours,  and  the 
returns  of  the  birth-day  memorials,  I  pass  on  to 
notice  my  friend's  care  and  extreme  anxiety  to 
keep  his  young  people  from  dang-erous  associates. 
To  choose  suitable  companions  is  not  less  difficult 
to  a  Christian  parent  than  to  provide  useful  recre- 
ations for  them.  The  peculiar  talents  of  Mr.  Rich- 
mond enabled  him  to  supply  abundant  materials  for 
the  employment  of  leisure  hours ;  and  his  strong 
affection  for  his  children  rendered  that  a  pleasure, 
which  to  many  would  have  been  an  irksome  duty. 
He  made  himself  not  only  a  profitable  but  a  suit- 
able and  interesting  companion  to  them.  They 
felt  no  discontent  at  the  strict  exclusion  of  other 
intimacies,  to  which  there  was  but  one  exception, 
in  the  son  of  a  gentleman  in  his  parish,  who  studied 
under  the  same  tutor,  and  who  was  ever  admitted 
w4th  affectionate  esteem  and  confidence  into  his 
family  party.  Probably  Mr.  R.'s  marked  anxiety 
on  this  point  may  be  traced  in  part  to  the  unhappy 
career  of  his  eldest  son,  on  whom  he  had  mtnessed 
the  efTect  of  bad  influence  in  a  corrupt  associate. 
So  inflexibly  did  he  adhere  to  his  rule,  that  he 
allowed  no  intercourse  whatever  with  other  fam- 
ilies, except  under  his  own  watchful  eye  and  dil- 
igent superintendence.  He  even  declined  invita- 
tions from  personal  relatives  whom  he  dearly  loved, 


60  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

and  with  whom  he  himself  kept  up  a  friendly  cor- 
respondence. It  was  his  fixed  resolve  to  sacrifice 
all  considerations  of  interest,  and  even  courtesy, 
although  he  might  thereby  expose  himself  to  cen- 
sure and  misapprehension,— -rather  than  bring  his 
children  under  an  influence  which  he  feared  might 
be  injurious  to  them.  When  some  of  them  were 
nearly  grown  up,  he  exercised  the  same  vigilance, 
and  regarded  with  suspicion  every  circumstance 
from  which  he  apprehended  possible  injury. 

He  used  to  say — "  My  dear  friends  and  relations 
are  amiable  and  highly  respectable.  I  have  great 
reason  to  be  grateful  for  their  kind  intentions  and 
good  offices  ;  but  I  cannot  tell  what  my  children 
may  meet  with  in  a  style  of  life  so  different  from 
mine.  One  fatal  hour  may  undo  years  of  instruc- 
tion, and  give  me  endless  perplexity.  I  have  suf- 
fered enough  from  sending  a  child  from  home." 

His  sentiments  on  this  subject  are  expressed  in 
the  following  letter  to  Mrs.  R.  who  had  asked  his 
advice  before  she  consented  to  allow  one  of  his 
daughters  to  accompany  a  lady  of  great  respecta- 
bility, and  undoubted  piety,  into  Devon,  to  spend 
the  winter  there.  It  was  not  improper  that  Mrs. 
R.  should  wish  her  children  to  see  something  of  the 
world,  and  be  gradually  accustomed  to  act  for  them- 
selves. The  character  of  the  protector  and  com- 
panion was  a  sufficient  guarantee  against  evil  con- 
tact. Our  friend  was  at  that  time  in  Scotland,  from 
whence  he  replied  to  the  application. 


CHOICE    OF    COMPAMONS.  61 

"  My    dear    LOVE, 

''  In  common  with  my  own  parents  I  have  ever 
had  strong,  very  strong  objections  to  allov/  my  chil- 
dren to  visit  anywhere  without  one  of  their  parents  ; 
and  through  life  I  have  seen  and  lamented  evils  aris- 
ing from  the  want  of  superintendence,  and  the  ab- 
sence of  those  v,iio  are  most  concerned  in  guarding 
against  the  mischief  of  association  with  other  fami- 
lies. As  a  general  rule,  therefore,  I  have  ahvays 
objected  to  it  from  conscientious  motives.  Yet 
there  may  be  exceptions,  and  I  readily  admit  that 

the  case  in  question  may  be  one  of  them I 

wish  to  make  homo  the  grand  centre  of  attraction, 
affection,  and  comforts.  You  know  from  this  year's 
experience  how  ready  I  am  to  give  our  girls  the  ad- 
vanta^re  of  seeina;  life  :  but  I  cannot  think  that  the 
withdrav/ing  the  parent's  eye  would  increase  the 
advantages  of  a  journey.  Never  is  that  eye  and 
ear  so  necessary  as  at  such  an  ago.  I  would  infi- 
nitely rather  undertake  the  responsibility  attached 
to  possible  and  contingent  evils  which  might  occur 
under  the  vigilant  and  tender  superintendence  of 
parents,  than  those  which  might  arise  from  the  con- 
nections and  habits  formed  when  that  restraint  is 
withdrawn.  I  perfectly  accord  with  you  in  wishing 
our  dear  children  to  gain  advantages  from  associat- 
ing with  our  various  Christian  friends,  and  am  act- 
ing daily  on  your  owm  ideas.  But  I  see  more  and 
more,  daily,  how  exceedingly  desirable  my  own 
presence  is,  and  that  continually.  But  when  the 
will  of  God  is  expressed  in  regard  to  health,  &c., 
and  the  path  of  duty  is  thereby  clearly  pointed  out 


62  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

to  me,  you  mu.st  not  suppose  me  to  be  either  indif- 
ferent or  positive.  At  the  same  time  I  see  moun- 
tains of  difficulty  in  deciding,  out  of  numerous  re- 
quests,— which  to  accept,  and  which  to  refuse. 

''  I  approve  your  plan  for  Wilber force — I  do  not 
oppose  your  wishes  for  Mary — I  only  pause — but  I 
much  admire  your  sentiments,  and  taking  both  body 
and  mind  into  consideration,  hope  it  may  be  the  will 
of  God. 

"  Farewell,  dear  love.  Cherish  a  comfortable 
spirit, — do  not  mistrust  God — let  not  your  soul  be 
disquieted  within  you, — look  kindly  on  providences 
and  hopefully  on  events,  and  ever  regard  me  as 

"  Your  faithful 

''  Legh." 

Some  of  Mr.  R's  best  friends  have  disapproved 
the  severity  of  restraint  which  he  judged  it  right  to 
impose  on  his  children.  They  have  blamed  him  for 
interdicting  the  usual  freedom  of  intercourse  with 
families  whose  conduct  and  principles  he  approved. 
It  is  possible  his  feelings  were  morbidly  acute  on 
occasions,  and  his  extreme  anxiety  for  the  spiritual 
welfare  of  his  family  often  proved  injurious  to  him- 
self, for  he  sometimes  passed  a  sleepless  night  in 
expectation  of  an  ordinary  visit  on  the  morrow. 
Such  was  his  vigilance,  that  if  a  friend  introduced 
his  son  under  circumstances  of  common  courtesy, 
he  appeared  restless  and  uneasy  if  the  young  people 
were  left  together  without  superintendence  for  a  few 
moments.  Other  persons  might  also  have  taken  ad- 
vantage of  an  extensive  popularity  to  benefit  their 


CHOICE     OF    COMPANIONS.  63 

families,  but  he  never  could  be  prevailed  on  to  use  a 
fair  opportunity  of  bringing  them  forward  to  notice, 
to  advance  their  temporal  welfare. 

"  I  cannot  endure,"  he  used  to  say,  "  even  to 
seem  to  make  my  religious  influence  a  stepping- 
stone  to  promotion  for  me  or  mine." 

Whatever  may  be  thought  of  my  friend's  judg- 
ment, it  is  impossible  not  to  respect,  admire,  and 
love  the  holy  integrity,  the  perfect  simplicity  and 
oneness  of  object  in  the  man  of  God,  and  I  cannot 
doubt  that  his  purity  of  motive  has  been  recorded 
in  heaven,  and  will  be  owned  on  earth  after  many 
days.  Whatever  worldly  advantages,  supposed  or 
real,  may  have  been  lost  to  his  family  from  the 
steady  application  of  religious  principle,  however 
pushed  to  an  extreme,  an  abundant  compensation 
shall  be  made  by  that  Being  whose  blessing  invaria- 
bly attends  a  faithful  adherence  to  the  dictates  of 
conscience,  and  who  hath  promised,  ''  Him  that 
honoreth  me,  I  will  honor." 

"  My  dear  M— •- 

"  We  have  had  a  very  prosperous  journey  thus 
far.      I  am  passing  a  few  comfortable  days  with 

at  this  place.     But,  alas  I  this  is  a  town  in 

which,  speaking  of  our  own  church,  religion  is  little 
known.  The  inhabitants  of  all  ranks  think  of  no- 
thing but  money,  folly,  vanity,  and  dissipation: 
their  evenings  are  spent  in  the  unprofitable  anxie- 
ties of  the  card-table,  the  ensnaring  amusement  of 
dancing,  or  the  delusions  and  temptations  of  the 
play-house,  their  mornings  in  idle  gossippings  and 


64  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

waste  of  time.  When  I  see  these  things,  I  feel 
satisfied  that  I  have  kept  my  dear  children  from 
such  scenes,  and  such  companions.  Oh !  how 
lamentable  to  contemplate  a  great  town  full  of  in- 
habitants, gentry,  clergy,  manufacturers,  trades- 
men, &c,,  living  almost  without  God  in  the  world  ; 
error  preached  from  the  pulpits ;  no  care  for  the 
souls  of  the  people  ;  no  family  prayer  in  the  houses ; 
no  zeal  for  religion,  unless,  perhaps,  it  be  nov/  and 
then  excited  to  abuse  and  ridicule  all  those  who 
have  any  real  love  for  God  and  their  souls. 

"  May  my  dear  child  be  preserved  from  the  de- 
filements of  a  vain,  dangerous,  and  destroying 
world.  You  know  not,  and  I  wish  you  never  may 
know,  its  snares  and  corruptions.     I  was  greatly 

affected  in  conversing  with  a  family  at ,  upon 

the  marriage  of  their  daughter,  under  the  following 
circumstances  ;  the  father  was  an  exemplary  clergy- 
man, the  mother  a  most  pious  woman ;  they  had 
brought  up  a  family  with  strict  attention  to  religious 
precepts  and  principles,  and  they  were  not  without 
hope  that  their  daughter  had  some^iety. 
.  "A  young  man  of  property,  but  of  no  decided 
religious  principle,  became  acquainted  with  her. 
Inattentive  to  the  affectionate  duties  which  she 
owed  to  her  excellent  parents,  their  feelings,  and 
their  advice,  she  suffered  her  mind  to  be  led  away 
into  an  attachment  towards  the  young  man.  The 
parents  were  aware  that  his  general  habits  and 
views  would  be  uncongenial  to  their  wishes  for  a 
daughter's  spiritual  welfare,  and  therefore  objected. 
However,  the  daughter  so  far  obtained  her  wishes, 


CHOICE    OF    COMPANIONS.  65 

that  a  very  reluctant  consent  was  given  to  the  mar- 
riage.     The    daughter,    gradually    led    away    into 
worldly  company  and  amusements,  has  given  up 
even  the  outward  profession  of  religion,  and  now 
lives  as  the  world  lives.    Yet  she  is  not  happy;  and 
her  parents  are  very  unhappy.     The  daughter  can- 
not help   remembering  the   example,  the  exhorta- 
tions, the  prayers,  the  solicitudes,  and  the  tears  of 
her  parents  ;  but  it  is  only  with  remorse,  which  she 
strives  to  drown  in  worldly  company  and    carnal 
amusements.     They  wept  over  the  case  with  me, 
v/hich  presents  a  proof  of  the  sad  consequences  of 
young  people  giving  way  to  hasty  impressions,  and 
yielding  to  connections  not  founded  on  a  regard  to 
the  honor  of  God,  gratitude  to  parents,  and  con- 
sistency with  a  religious  profession.     How  needful 
is  it  that  Christian  parents,  and  Christian  children, 
should  be  firm  and  conscientious  in  the  important 
duty   of  encouraging  connections   for   life  only  on 
Christian  principles  !  what  distress  to  families,  and 
what  decays  of  hopeful  character  have  resulted  from 
a  deficiency  on  this  point  I     Let  me  warn  my  dear 

M against  that  unbecoming  levity,  with  which 

many  young  people  treat  these  subjects.  Evil  com- 
munications corrupt  good  manners,  very  especially 
in  this  matter.  The  love  of  Christ  is  the  only  safe 
ground  of  all  motives,  and  all  conduct.  Where 
this  is  established  all  is  well.  The  life-blood  of 
Christianity  then  circulates  through  every  vein  of 
the  soul  :  and  health,  strength,  and  purity  of  mind 
is  the  happy  result.  Fall  down  upon  your  knees 
before   God,    iny   M — — »   praying  that  he   would 


66  FAMILY    PORTRAlTURt:. 

pour  that  love  into  your  heart,  till  it  become  a 
constraining  principle  for  the  government  of  your 
thoughts  and  actions.  This  is  the  only  remedy  for 
all  the  diseases  of  the  soul. 

"  Beware  of  pride  and  self-conceit ;  of  fretful  tem- 
pers and  .  discontent.  Learn  to  quell  impatience 
and  obstinacy.  Let  your  first,  your  very  first  de- 
light be  in  serving  God  by  serving  your  parents. 
Reckon  not  on  youth  or  long  life.  Devote  yourself 
to  active  usefulness  in  the  family,  and  in  the  parish. 
Show  forth  the  principles  in  which  you  have  been 
educated,  by  a  practical  exhibition  of  them  in  your 
conduct.  But  who  is  sufficient  unto  these  things  ? 
Christ.  Without  Him  you  can  do  nothing  ;  no, 
not  so  much  as  think  a  good  thought.  But  you  can 
do  all  things  through  Christ  strengthening  you. 
He  is  the  sufficiency  of  all  his  people.  By  faith  in 
him  you  obtain  power  to  perform  duty.  By  grace 
are  ye  saved,  and  that  not  of  j^ourselves ;  not  of 
works,  lest  any  one  should  boast.  Could  works  save 
us,  we  might  boast,  and  heaven  would  be  full  of 
boasters.  But  no,  no,  no  ;  the  song  of  the  saints  is, 
'  Not  unto  us,  not  unto  us,  but  unto  thy  name  be 
all  the  glory.' 

"  Your  affectionate  Father, 

"  Legu  Richmond." 

It  may  be  thought  that  a  transition  from  seclu- 
sion to  an  active  life,  from  the  habits  of  a  retired 
village  to  the  busy  haunts  of  men,  is  more  safe  when 
gradual  than  when  sudden,  and  that  as  young  per- 
sons must   sooner   or  later  be  connected  with  the 


EARLY    ASSOCIATIONS.  67 

world  that  lies  in  wickedness,  it  were  better  to  ac- 
custom their  nriinds  by  degrees  to  a  contact  which 
will  be  afterwards  unavoidable.  A  Christian  parent 
will,  however,  feel  extremely  jealous  of  the  modern 
practice  of  exposing  youth  to  a  prurient  knowledge 
of  evil,  of  removing  parental  superintendence  at  too 
early  an  age,  and  of  allowing  an  unrestrained  free- 
dom of  association,  which  appears  to  me,  as  it  did 
to  Mr.  R.,  to  be  attended  with  great  danger.  The 
effects  of  present  habits  are  but  too  obvious  ;  pre- 
mature and  indiscriminate  intercourse,  and  the  re- 
laxation of  former  discipline,  have  generated  a  race 
of  tyros  whose  cliief  distinction  seems  to  be  a  con- 
tempt for  authority,  and  a  rash  and  arrogant  pre- 
tension to  superiority  very  unbecoming  their  years 
or  station.  It  is  far  better  to  train  up  a  child  in  the 
ways  of  God  than  in  the  maxims  of  the  world, — to 
be  more  intent  on  securing  for  him  an  entrance  into 
life  eternal,  than,  with  a  hope  of  present  advantage, 
to  put  to  hazard  the  salvation  of  his  immortal  soul. 
I  would  apologize  (if  apology  be  necessary)  for 
dwelling  on  details  which  may  appear  too  trifling 
for  notice,  but  the  Christian  parent,  who  can  duly 
estimate  the  "  potency  of  little  things,"  may  collect 
from  them  some  useful  hints  for  the  regulation  of 
his  own  family,  and  with  this  view  I  insert  them. 

Mr.  R.  was  an  early  riser,  and  he  endeavored 
to  inspire  the  same  activity  in  the  minds  of  his 
children.  He  used  to  read  with  them  in  his  study 
at  as  early  an  hour  as  six  o'clock  in  the  morning, 
and  as  occasions  arose,  prayed  with  them  in  succes- 
sion ;    he  was  very   attentive  to  their  regularity, 


68  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

neatness,  and  good  manners,  and  he  endeavored  to 
make  the  conversation  at  table  useful  and  improving. 
Sometimes  he  proposed  a  subject  for  discussion,  and 
when  he  perceived  youthful  spirits  rising  to  excess, 
he  would  throw  in  a  remark  to  check  the  exuber- 
ance. No  one  aimed  more  constantly  to  restrain 
the  evils  of  the  tongue  in  his  family :  if  ever  an  ob- 
servation was  made  to  the  disadvantage  of  another, 
his  uneasiness  Avas  apparent ;  slander  in  any  shape 
was  distasteful  to  him,  and  he  was  sure  to  say 
something  in  allowance  or  excuse.  Indeed  Mr.  R. 
particularly  excelled  in  conversational  powers  :  with 
a  fund  of  good  humor,  he  abounded  in  anecdote, 
and  having  a  large  aeqitaintance  with  science  of 
every  kind,  he  never  failed  to  entertain ;  and  with 
a  soul  ever  intent  on  the  glory  of  God  and  the  best 
interests  of  his  fellow  creatures,  he  was  under  no 
temptation  to  sacrifice  the  useful  to  the  amusing. 
Table  talk  is  seldom  regarded  with  a  proper  sense 
of  its  importance.  Servants  are  often  on  the  watch 
to  get  something  for  circulation,  and  to  retail  among 
themselves  the  opinions  which  their  masters  have 
expressed  in  their  presence :  the  general  strain  of 
social  intercourse  ought  therefore  to  be  regulated 
with  a  view  to  their  improvement.  Children  are 
apt  to  trifle,  and  relate  all  they  have  heard  without 
discrimination,  and  they  need  an  elder  to  guide  and 
sfive  a  tone  to  their  conversation  ;  this  my  excellent 
friend  accomplished  in  a  manner  the  most  felici- 
tous ;  he  allowed  and  even  encouraged  perfect  free- 
dom and  ease,  yet  every  one  felt  that  there  was  an 
eye  and  an  ear  over  everything. 


HOME    CORRESPONDENCE.  69 

Innumerable  mischiefs  arise  to  children  from  too 
close  an  intimacy  with  domestics ;  a  foundation  is 
often  laid,  here,  for  opinions  and  habits  difficult  to 
be  afterwards  eradicated  :  not  only  are  coarse  and 
vulgar  tastes  imbibed,  but  vices  of  an  appalling  char- 
acter are  learnt  in  the  stable  or  the  kitchen,  where 
ready  instruments  are  frequently  found  to  concur 
in  deceiving  a  parent,  or  gratifying  some  bad  pro- 
pensity in  the  minds  of  children.  It  was  a  point  of 
importance  in  jMr.  R.'s  mind,  that  no  Vvdcked  person 
should  dwell  beneath  his  roof ;  his  domestics,  as  far 
as  practicable,  were  selected  from  persons  of  good 
principles,  and  they  became  deeply  attached  to  the 
family.  Yet,  even  under  these  circumstances,  he  for- 
bade all  unnecessary  intercourse  :  there  are,  doubt- 
less, many  faithful  servants,  worthy  of  our  esteem 
and  confidence  ;  but,  as  a  general  rule,  intimacies  of 
this  kind  are  productive  of  evil,  and  no  good  can 
arise  from  too  close  a  connection  between  our  chil- 
dren and  dependants.  Mr.  E,.  provided  each  child 
with  a  separate  sleeping-room,  thus  securing  a  com- 
fortable place  of  retirement  and  devotion.  These 
little  sanctuaries  were  always  accessible  to  himself; 
he  often  visited  them  to  leave  a  note  on  the  table  ; 
for  while  at  home,  as  Vv^ell  as  when  abroad,  he  kept 
up  a  correspondence  with  his  family,  which  he  used 
to  call  his  Home  Mission ;  and  to  these  notes  he 
requested  a  reply.  I  have  heard  him  explain  his 
reasons  for  so  singular  a  method  of  instruction ;  he 
used  to  say,  "  I  feel  an  insurmountable  backward- 
ness to  close  personal  conversation  with  my  chil- 
dren ;  when  I  begin  they  are  silent,  and  it  is  not  long 


70  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

before  I  also  feel  tongue-tied  ;  yet  I  cannot  be  easy 
without  ascertaining  the  effect  of  my  instructions, 
and  hence  I  have  been  driven  to  use  my  pen,  because 
I  could  not  open  my  lips."  Mr.  R.  is  not  the  only 
father  who  has  felt  and  yielded  to  this  repugnance, 
without  adopting  his  ingenious  remedy  for  a  weak- 
ness not  uncommon,  yet  not  the  less  to  be  lamented. 
I  am,  however,  disposed  to  estimate  this  home  cor- 
respondence more  highly  than  a  direct  personal  ap- 
peal. Conversation  (if  it  be  not  a  contradiction  so 
to  speak,)  is  apt  to  be  all  on  one  side  ;  but  a  com- 
munication by  letter  admits  of  freedom  and  reflec- 
tion, and  if  a  reply  be  expected,  obliges  an  interchange 
of  sentiments.  It  also  teaches  young  people  to 
think  and  compose. 

When  circumstances  required  a  longer  epistle, 
as  when  a  fault  needed  correction,  or  a  removal 
from  the  family  was  about  to  take  place, — when 
preparation  for  a  religious  ordinance  was  required, 
or  the  choice  of  a  profession  to  be  made, — on  such 
occasions  Mr.  R.  was  diffuse,  earnest,  and  partic- 
ular ;  at  other  times  his  little  notes  contained  only 
an  aflectionate  suggestion  of  a  text  for  meditation, 
or  a  hint  to  improve  some  event.  He  seemed  anx- 
ious that  his  children  should  have  a  subject,  to  use 
his  own  phrase,  "  on  the  stocks,"  and  a  habit  of 
always  employing  their  minds  and  making  the  best 
use  of  the  hours  which  usually  run  to  waste, — the 
moments  and  interstices  of  time.  He  used  to  say, 
"  an  idle  moment  is  Satan's  opportunity." 

The  reader  may  expect  a  specimen  or  two  of 
these  short  notes,   which,   as  I  have    already   ob- 


HOME    CORRESPONDENCE.  71 

served,  were  conveyed  by  himself,  and  left  on  the 
table  in  his  children's  rooms,  with  a  request  for  a 
reply  within  a  limited  time.  These  replies  formed 
the  subjects  of  his  prayer  on  their  behalf. 


'^Dear  H., 

"  Your  text  to-day  shall  be,  '  the  blood  of  Jesus 
Christ  cleanseth  from  all  sin.'  No  sin  is  too  great 
to  be  pardoned  ;  but  then  the  soul  must  seek,  be- 
lieve, and  experience  this  mercy.  There  is  infinite 
value  in  the  blood  of  Christ,  but  .the  believer  alone 
enjoys  the  privilege.  '  Believe  on  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  and  thou  shalt  be  saved.'  This  is  the  way, 
and  the  truth,  and  the  life.  My  dear  child,  what 
should,  what  could  we  lost  sinners  do,  if  it  were 
not  for  this  atoning  merit.  Seek  and  you  shall 
find.  Lose  no  time, — Christ  waits  to  be  gracious, 
carry  your  heart  and  all  its  feelings  to  him  in  prayer, 
and  when  you  have  told  him  all  your  wants,  pray 
for  your  affectionate  Father, 

"  L.  Richmond." 


''  My  dearest  F., 

"  As  I  trust  that  it  is  your  own  and  my  wish, 
that  your  mind  should  be  seriously  and  affection- 
ately directed  towards  the  greatest  of  all  external 
privileges,  the  Lord's  Supper,  I  wish  you  to  answer 
me  in  writing,  these  two  questions : — What  are 
your  views  of  the  nature,  design,  and  privilege  of 
this  sacrament  ?  and  what  are  the  real  feelings  of 
your  heart  at  this  time  respecting  it  ?     This  com- 


72  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

munication  is,  and  shall  be,  quite  confidential  be- 
tween you  and  your  afToctionate  Father. 

"  P.  S.  I  trust  the  first  Saturday  in  October  may 
unite  us  at  the  feast  of  love." 

"  My  Di^AR  L., 

"  I  leave  these  fev^  lines  with  you,  in  the  hope 
that  you  will  reply  to  them  while  I  am  in  Cam- 
bridge.    You  must  write,  therefore,  not  later  than 
by  Tuesday's  post.     I  do  from  my  heart  desire  to 
know  whether  you  do,  or  do  not,  feel  an  anxiety 
about   your    soul'f  salvation.       Has  the    affecting 
thought,   '  I   must  live  forever  in  lieaven  or  hell,' 
suitably  impressed  your  mind  ?     This  black  border 
may  remind  you  of  your  dear  departed  brother,— 
but  docs  his  memory  live  in  your  heart  for  good  ? 
It  is  time  you  seriously  reflected  on  eternity,  and 
tlie  value  of  your  soul.     You   are  a   sinner,  and 
without  a  gracious  Saviour  you  must  perish.     Do 
you  pray  in  Christ's  name  ?  and  that  earnestly,  for 
the  pardon  of  your  sins  ?     May  I  hope  that  you  are 
a  penitent  ?     Do  you  think  of  Willy's  last  words  to 
you,  and  of  all  that  ho  so  earnestly  recommended  to 
your  serious  attention  ?     Have  you  written  down 
his  dying  words,  as  I  desired  you  ?     Be  not  afraid 
to  open  your  mind  to  me.     Let  us  have  an  unre- 
served   intercourse    with  each   other.      Put  away 
childish    things, — imitate    your    brother's    love    of 
learning,  but  especially  his  love  of  the  Bible,  and 
his  constancy  in  the   exercises  of  devotion.     Oh  ! 
comfort   your  father's  heart,   by  truly  turning    to 
God,  and  seekino-  his  salvation  ;  and  may  Cod  bless 


HOME    CORRESPONDENCE.  73 

you  forever  and  ever,  which  is  the  fervent  prayer 
of  your  affectionate  parent, 

''L.  R." 

"  My  dear  child, 

''  I  am  pleased,  much  pleased  with  your  letter, 
the  more  so  as  it  contains  some  expressions,  which 
inspire  a  hope  that  you  are  beginning  to  think  and 
feel  seriously  about  your  soul's  salvation.  While 
I  cannot  but  be  most  tenderly  affected  by  the  loss 
of  my  two  elder  sons,  endeared  to  me  by  a  thou- 
sand recollections,  I  become  the  more  anxious  for 
the  welfare  of  tliose  children  whom  God  spares  to 
me.  For  the  last  year  I  have  gone  through  great 
trials,  and  my  health  has  suffered  more  than  any 
are  aware  of ;  but  in  the  midst  of  all  my  sorrows, 
the  inexpressible  goodness  of  God  has  been  most 
manifest,  and  I  trust  my  afflictions  have  been  blest 
to  many.  Many  a  rose  has  sprung  up  around  the 
cold  grave  of  dear  Willy,  and  they  still  blossom, 
and  I  trust  will  continue  to  blossom,  till  they  be 
transplanted  from  the  spiritual  garden  of  Turvey, 
to  the  paradise  of  God.     But   can  I   be   otherwise 

than  anxious  that  my  dear  K should  add  a  flower 

to  my  domestic  and  parochial  shrubbery  ?  Are  you 
to  reach  your  sixteenth  year,  and  not  internally,  as 
well  as  externally,  prove  yourself  a  partaker  of  the 
grace  of  God  ?  I  trust  not, — but  religion  is  not  a 
matter  of  mere  circumstantials,  or  of  morals.  It  is 
the  spiritual  application  of  divine  truth  to  the  heart, 
producing  that  devotedness  to  God,  which  distin- 
guishes the  true  from  the  nominal  Christian.     But 


74  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

when,  how,  and  where  does  this  begin  ?  Not  until 
you  have  deep,  humbling,  sincere,  and  anxious 
thoughts  about  yourself,  and  the  favor  of  God  ; 
not  until,  by  a  kind  of  holy  violence,  you  feel  con- 
strained to  flee  to  Christ,  as  the  only  refuge  from 
the  wrath  to  come  ;  not  until  prayer  become  im- 
portunate, and  the  study  of  God's  word  a  delight ; 
not  until  every  other  consideration  yields  to  that 
infinitely  important  inquiry,  '  AYhat  must  I  do  to 
be  saved  V  Not  until  the  light,  trifling,  and  thought- 
less child  of  man  be  converted,  through  grace,  to 
the  serious,  conscientious,  and  believing  state  of  the 
real  child  of  God.  Is  this  the  case  with  you  ?  I 
speak  as  a  Christian  father,  and  minister.  What 
are  your  views  of  these  important  subjects  ?  I  wish 
my  child  to  be  deeply  earnest ;  life  flies  apace,  the 
period  of  the  tomb  advances.  I  have  four  children 
in  eternity  ;  it  is  true  that  eight  more  still  continue 
with  me  on  earth,  but  how  long  will  they  be  here  ? 
Which  of  them  may  next  be  taken  from  me  ?  I 
think  on  these  things  with  deep  solemnity.  You 
tremble  at  the  thought  of  a  school-examination, — 
but  what  is  this  to  the  examination  before  the  judg- 
ment-seat of  God.  Go,  then,  as  a  sinner  to  Christ. 
He  sends  none  empty  away.  In  him  and  him 
alone,  there  is  a  rich  provision  for  all  who  come  to 
him.  But  let  this  coming  mean  a  surrender  of  all 
you  are,  and  all  you  have,  to  the  Lord  of  grace  and 
glory.  Be  contented  with  nothing  short  of  reality 
in  religion. 

*'  Whence  came  1 1 — memory  cannot  say  ; — 
What  am  1 1 — knowledge  will  not  show  ; — 


DISCIPLINE.  75 

Bound  whither?— ah!  away— away- 
Far  as  eternity  can  go  ; 
Thy  love  to  win,  thy  wrath  to  flee, 
Oh  God  !  thyself  my  helper  be." 

*'  Farewell,  my  dear  child,  and  believe  me, 
"  Your  truly  loving  father, 
"  L.  R." 

Discipline  is  a  subject  of  no  small  moment  in  the 
education  of  a  family.  Offences  must  needs  come, 
and  the  foolishness  which  is  bound  up  in  the  heart 
of  a  child,  will  discover  itself  in  acts  of  disobedience 
both  to  God  and  a  parent.  How  this  is  to  be  met, 
controlled,  and  subdued,  has  occasioned  a  difference 
of  opinion  between  good  and  wise  men.  It  is  agreed 
that  authority  must  be  maintained,  and  that  all  that 
is  sinful  and  injurious  to  a  child's  welfare  must  be 
firmly  resisted.  But  it  is  not  easy  to  avoid  the  ex- 
tremes of  harshness,  and  a  weak  fondness ; — to  be 
firm,  yet  kind;  to  do  nothing  from  temper,  from 
partiality  or  caprice  ;  to  preserve  composure  under 
circumstances  of  provocation. 

I  cannot  undertake  to  decide  whether  corporal 
chastisement  is  to  be  inflicted  or  dispensed  with. 
The  Scripture  warns  us  equally  against  severity  and 
undue  tenderness,  "  not  to  provoke  wrath,  nor 
honor  our  children  above  God  ;"  on  this  point  men 
must  determine  according  to  the  dictates  of  their 
own  consciences.  So  far  I  am  satisfied,  that  there 
are  few  occasions  when  the  rod  is  indispensably  ne- 
cessary, and  none  which  will  justify  its  use  under 
the  rufilings  of  temper  ;  nor  will  the  effect  be  salu- 


76  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

tary,  if  a  child  does  not  at  the  time  feel  it  to  be  re- 
luctant severity,  giving  more  pain  to  the  offended, 
than  to  the  offender.  Force  may  be  the  easier  way 
of  settling  a  difference,  and  is  probably  often  resorted 
to  from  a  wish  to  escape  the  trouble  and  labor  of 
more  reasonable  methods  of  eradicating  evil ;  but 
it  seldoms  fails  to  excite  sinful  exasperations,  and 
induce  a  brutish  character  ;  and  the  example  on  the 
part  of  the  parent,  is  often  found  unfavorable  to 
right  dispositions  in  the  other  members  of  the 
family  towards  each  other.  Yet  I  am  bound  to 
admit,  as  the  result  of  my  own  observation,  that 
even  severity  is  a  less  evil  in  its  consequences,  than 
a  weak  connivance  at  a  child's  misconduct.  The 
parent  who  "  never  displeases  his  child  at  any 
time,"  must  expect  to  reap  the  fruits  of  his  own 
folly  in  the  ruin  of  his  offspring.  Excessive  indul- 
gence seldom  fails  to  bring  a  rebuke  along  with  it. 
Mr.  Richmond's  method  of  discipline  was  peculiar 
to  himself,  partly  the  effect  of  his  own  unbounded 
tenderness  and  affection,  but  in  a  great  measure,  of 
his  deep  and  extraordinary  piety.  He  could  never 
be  justly  accused  of  a  weak  connivance  at  evil,  for 
here  he  was  resolute,  firm  and  inflexible ;  yet  he 
was  never  known  to  employ  corporal  chastisement. 
Whatever  may  be  thought  of  his  treatment  of 
offences,  it  was  felt  by  every  member  of  his  family, 
that  nothing  could  make  him  yield,  or  shake  his 
resolution, — nay,  not  for  a  moment.  He  was  alive 
to  all  that  was  wrong  in  principle  or  conduct,  and 
he  never  ceased  to  remonstrate,  or  to  employ 
means  to  reduce  his  child  to  obedience,  and  awaken 


DISCIPLINE.  77 

in  him  a  sense  of  error.  But  the  chief  way  in 
which  he  marked  his  displeasure,  was  by  those 
signs  of  extreme  distress,  which  penetrated  the 
heart  of  the  delinquent,  and  softened  rebellion  into 
regret.  From  the  misconduct  of  his  child,  he 
seemed  to  reflect  on  himself,  as  the  author  of  a 
corrupt  being.  He  humbled  himself  before  God, 
and  in  prayer  sought  help  from  above,  while  he 
kept  the  offender  at  a  distance,  or  separated  him 
from  the  society  of  his  family,  as  one  unworthy  to 
share  in  their  privileges  and  afTections.  No  one  of 
his  children  could  long  endure  this  exclusion,  or 
bear  with  sullen  indifference,  a  countenance  which 
silently  expressed  the  deepest  anguish.  Perhaps 
there  never  was  a  family  where  the  reign  of  love 
suffered  less  interruption.  The  reader  must  form 
his  own  opinion  of  Mr.  R.'s  mode  of  regulating  his 
family.  He  must  determine  for  himself,  how  far  a 
discipline  of  this  kind  is  worthy  of  imitation,  or  is 
suitable  to  his  own  circumstances.  Where  there 
exists  the  same  consistency  and  unity  of  purpose, 
an  equal  desire  to  glorify  God  in  all  things,  and  a 
similar  diligence  in  the  education  of  a  family,  I  feel 
confident  that  the  divine  blessing  will  crown  with 
success  the  exercise  of  this  or  any  other  discipline 
of  a  Christian  parent. 

Two  or  three  other  letters  to  his  children,  touch- 
ing both  on  lively  and  on  serious  topics,  will  appro- 
priately close  this  chapter. 


78  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

"  Sea  Bank,  Ayrshire. 
*'  My  much  loved  F — — , 


''  As  you  hear  all  the  good  news  from  Glasgow, 
I  need  not  repeat  it.  Now  take  a  Scotch  map  and 
you  shall  see  where  I  am.  Look  on  the  sea-coast 
of  Ayrshire,  and  you  see  a  place  between  Ayr  and 
Largs,  called  Salt  Coasts.  Close  to  this  is  a  lovely 
cottage  called  Sea  Bank,  the  residence  of  my  friend 

Mr. .     In  the  front  is  a  magnificent  view  of  the 

sea  as  far  as  Ireland — the  Frith  of  Clyde  with  its 
beauteous  islands — Arran,  whose  craggy,  pictur- 
esque mountains  tower  to  the  sky  in  the  wildest, 
highest  style  of  romantic  grandeur  and  beauty — 
Bute,  smaller,  but  very  lovely — the  Cumbraies — 
the  long  peninsula  of  Can  tyre,  and  over  it  the 
high  pyramidical  mountains  of  Jura — the  coast  of 
Ayrshire,  farther  than  the  eye  can  reach,  and  the 
surprising  rock  called  the  Craig  of  Ailsa,  rising  up 
in  the  midst  of  the  ocean,  far  away  from  all  land, 
and  sustaining  solitary  majesty,  the  almost  unmo- 
lested haunt  of  wild  birds,  goats  and  rabbits.  Yes- 
terday there  was  a  great  storm,  and  the  sea  raged 
horribly.  I  saw  many  a  vessel  tossed  about  in  all 
directions.  I  went  down  to  the  shore,  and  stood 
astounded  amidst  roarinar  waves,  screamins:  sea- 
fowls,  and  whistling  winds.  To-day  all  is  calm, 
gentle,  and  inviting.  Yesterday  I  saw  the  subhme, 
to-day  the  beautiful.  I  am  writing  at  a  window 
which  commands  the  whole  view.  Somehow  or 
other  I  am  much  amused  with  the  appearance  and 
conduct  of  a  large  flock  of  poultry,  just  now  parad- 
ing about  on  the  lawn  beneath  me.     There  are  five 


LETTERS    TO    HIS    CHILDREN.  79 

pea-fowls,  six  turkies,  twenty  cocks  and  hens,  and 
a  solitary  goose  from  Botany  Bay.  They  walk  and 
talk  with  much  diversified  gait  and  air.  The  sober 
gravity  of  their  pace,  occasionally  interrupted  by  a 
gobble,  a  jump,  and  a  snap  ;  the  proud  loftiness  of 
the  peacock,  sometimes  expressed  in  solemn  silence, 
and  sometimes  by  a  very  unmusical  squall.  The 
ruffling  vibrations  of  the  turkey-cock's  feathers, 
with  now  and  then  a  brisk  advance  towards  his 
rival  of  the  green ;  the  social  grouping  of  the  cocks 
and  hens,  contrasted  with  the  unsocial  condition 
and  march  of  the  poor  unpartnered  goose,  who 
grunts  dismally,  and  sometimes  turns  up  a  doubtful 
sort  of  a  side  look  at  me,  as  I  sit  at  the  window,  as 
much  as  to  say,  '  Who  are  you  ?'  Sometimes  a 
continued  silence  for  a  space,  and  then  a  sudden 
and  universal  cackling,  as  if  they  were  all  at  once 
tickled  or  frightened,  or  in  some  way  excited  to 
garrulity.  All  this  amuses  me  not  a  little.  There 
are  also  two  noble  w^atch-dogs  ;  I  wish  they  had 
been  at  the  house  when  the  robbers  came.  I  feel 
much  when  at  a  distance  from  home, — even  minor 
sources  of  trouble  harass  and  disturb  me,  when  I 
am  so  far  from  you.  Let  us  pray  for  faith  and  con- 
fidence in  God  alone.  I  think  of  going  to  lona,  it 
is  sacred  and  classic  ground.  May  every  blessing 
attend  my  children. 

"  So  prays  their  aftectionate  father, 

"  Legh  Richmond." 


80  family  portraiture. 

"  My  own  dear  child, 


"  Glasgow. 


''  On  my  return  home,  I  found  yonr  letter,  and 
hasten  to  give  you  a  few  lines  in  reply.  I  thought 
you  long  in  writing,  and  welcomed  your  hand  with 

much  delight.     Indeed,  my  F ,  you  and  I   are 

not  sufficiently  intimate  in  religious  intercourse  and 
correspondence ;  we  must  become  more  so,  and 
may  God  enable  us.  Let  us  walk  and  talk,  and  sit 
and  talk  more  on  these  subjeots  than  we  have 
done.  Time  flies,  events  are  uncertain,  provi- 
dences, health,  and  life,  are  transient  and  mutable, 
I  hope  the  ensuing  winter  will  unite  us  closer  than 
ever.  Winter  is  my  domestic  dependence ;  your 
heart  is  with  me  in  this  feeling.  I  much  regret 
that  circuD:istances  have  prevented  your  travelling 
with  me  this  year,  but  I  hope  next  summer  wdll  be 
more  propitious.  When  I  return  we  will  read  and 
talk  over  together  such  scenes  as  we  mutally  love, 
and  you  shall  hear  of  my  interesting  journey  to 
StafFa  and  lona.  Nature,  grace,  history,  antiquity, 
compassion,  taste,  and  tw^enty  more  subjects  and 
affections  all  meet  there.  I  w41l  match  the  festival 
which  I  gave  to  the  poor  children  of  Icolmkill  on 

St.   Colomba's    day    with    the    gala    of    Mr. . 

Moreover  I  wrote  a  right  noble  copy  of  verses  for 
the  children  to  sing.  Mr.  M.  is  a  truly  valuable 
man.     He  grows  daily  in  my  estimation.     I  feel 

much  pleased  at  the  prospect  of  my  dear 's 

union  ;  her  tender  heart  is  fixed,  although  her 
affections  are  strongly  bound  to  her  family.  En- 
courage and  elevate  her  spirits  when  you  write,  for 


LETTERS    TO    HIS    CHILDREN.  81 

her  nerves  are  delicate.  It  is  a  great  question,  and 
God  I  trust  is  settling  it  for  her.  ^^  ^^  ^  *  * 
Mr.  M.  is  a  man  of  God,  and  makes  religion  and 
conscience  the  ground  of  all  he  says  and  does. 

"  Read  the  life  of  Mrs.  Isabella  Graham  of  New 
York,  Mr.  M.'s  aunt.  It  will  show  you  the  sort  of 
piety  of  Mr.  M.  and  his  family,  all  of  whom  are 
valuable  characters. 

"  What  a  terrible  storm  you  had  !  The  Lord 
rides  in  the  storm.  '  He  can  create,  and  he  de- 
stroy.' I  hope  you  do  not  forget  him  in  the  midst 
of  agi-eeable  society.  The  care  of  a  soul,  its  natu- 
ral departures  from  God,  its  proneness  to  made  idols 
of  the  creature,  and  the  extreme  narrowness  of  the 
strait  gate,  are  subjects  for  our  deep  meditation. 
Alas  !  how  many  among  our  respectable  and  decent 
friends  and  acquaintance  are  still  in  an  unconverted 
state,  strangers  to  the  real  experience  of  the  heart, 
and  unacquainted  with  the  love  of  Christ !  Care- 
lessness and  comparative  insensibility,  ruin  more 
souls  than  deliberate  acts  of  resolute  iniquity.  You 
have  need  to  be  jealous  over  your  own  soul,  and  to 
watch  and  pray  that  you  enter  not  into  temptation. 
Real  piety  is  a  very  different  thing  from  mere  de- 
cent profession,  educational  propriety,  and  orderly 
conduct;  yet  without  it  none  can  enter  the  kingdom 
of  God.  Where  a  deep  sense  of  guilt  and  depravity 
does  not  subsist,  all  else  is  a  mere  name,  and  it  is 
much  easier  to  admit  this  as  a  doctrine,  than  to  feel 
and  act  upon  it  as  a  truth.  I  want  my  children  to 
be  living  commentaries  on  my  sermons  and  princi- 
ples. I  long  to  see  them  adorning  the  Gospel  of 
4* 


82  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

Christ  in  all  things,  and  that  from  the  inner  man  of 

the  heart.     I  have  no  objection  to  Mr. 's  being 

liberal  and  hospitable.  I  only  lament  that  among 
tlie  lower  classes,  dancing  and  debauchery  are 
nearly  synonymous,  and  therefore  I  must  absent 
myself  from  such  fetes.  So  poor  dear  S.  W.^  is 
dead.  To  what  trials  are  the  best  Christians  for  a 
time  given  up !  Frequently  during  delirium,  the 
most  holy  have  appeared  the  most  wicked  in  thought 
and  action.     But  of  her  Christianity  I  cannot  have 

a  doubt.    *    *    *    ]  saw last  week.    ^  *    Oh  I 

how  time  Hies,  generation  succeeds  generation,  like 
waves  on  the  sea  ;  but  whither  shall  ive  float  at 
last  ?  Much,  much,  very  much  goes  to  secure  a 
safe  entrance  into  the  eternal  harbor  of  peace  and 
safety.  All  subjects  sink  into  insignificance  com- 
pared with  this.     How  foolish,  how  wicked  are  we 

in  this  matter  I    Farewell,  my  beloved  F ,  much 

of  my  domestic  comfort  depends  on  you  ;  love  your 
father,  for  indeed  he  loves  you.  When  and  while 
you  can,  be  a  prop  to  his  feelings  and  spirits.  Now 
the  period  is  arrived  when  I  look  for  the  harvest  of 
filial  intercourse,  of  which  I  sowed  the  seeds  with 
such  anxiety  in  your  infancy  and  childhood.  May 
every  blessing  be  with  you,  in  time  and  eternity. 
Seven  times  a  day  I  pray,  and  say,  '  God  bless  my 
dear  wife — God  bless  my  dear  children — God  bless 
my  dear  parishioners — and  God  bless  my  own  im- 
mortal soul.' 

"  This  comes  from  the  heart  of  your  loving  father, 

''Legh  Richmond." 

*  One  of  his  poor  parishioners. 


LETTERS    TO    HIS    CHILDREN.  83 

Extract  of  a  letter  to  his  daughter  F . 

*'  I  saw  A M — —  last  week  ;  she  is  like  no 

one  else  ;  it  is  a  little  Paradise  to  be  where  she  is  : 
simplicity,  fluency,  devotedness,  natural  talent,  and 
gracious  acquirements  at  eighty-four,  concentrate  a. 
kind  of  glory  playing  around  her  head  and  heart. 
Mr. has  left  ,  there  are  great  lamenta- 
tions, but  I  think  I  see  the  hand  of  God  in  it ;  there 
is  danger  indeed  when  the  minister,  rather  than  the 
master,  is  the  object  of  dehght ;  but  such  religion 
will  soon  decay  and  dissipate.      *      *      #      *     * 

One  thing,  my  F ,  is  most  certain,  that  a  great 

deal  more  than  commonly  manifcvsts  itself  amongst 
the  generality  of  rich  and  genteel  professors,  is 
necessary  to  adorn,  if  not  constitute,  real,  vital, 
saving  religion.  The  manners,  the  opinions,  the 
luxuries,  the  indolence,  the  trifling,  the  waste  of 
time  and  talents,  the  low  standard,  the  fastidious- 
ness, the  pride,  and  many  more  etceteras  stand 
awfully  in  the  way  of  religious  attainment  and 
progress;  hence  it  is,  that  in  so  many  instances,  the 
religion  of  the  cottage  so  much  outstrips  that  of  the 
mansion ;  and  that  we  derive  so  much  more  benefit 
from  intercourse  with  the  really  sincere  Christians 
amongst  the  poor,  than  amongst  the  too  refined, 
showy,  luxurious,  and  dubious  professors  in  higher 
classes.  Thank  God,  however,  there  are  some, 
though  few,  yet  delightful,  specimens  amongst  the 
rich ;  the  gate  is  too  strait  for  some  of  the  camels. 
*  *  *  *  Allow  me,  with  a  heart  full 
of  love  and  esteem  for  my  dearly  loved  F ,  to 


84  FAMILY    PORTRAITITRE. 

ask  whether  you  have  considered  the  subject  of 
my  last  letter ;  do  you  not  see,  on  mature  exam- 
ination of  your  own  heart,  that  religion  has  not 
done  all  that  it  ought  to  have  done  in  this  respect 
for  my  dearest  child  ;  has  not  something  of  discon- 
tent been  mingled  with  the  lawful  exercise  of  affec- 
tion ?  has  not  Christ  been  in  some  degree  robbed 
of  his  love  and  duty  in  your  heart  of  late  ?  1  en- 
treat my  dear  child  to  take  this  frank,  but  affection- 
ate reproof  in  good  part.  I  love  you  so  dearly,  that 
I  want  to  see  you  holy,  happy,  and  heavenly.  True, 
deep,  and  unfeigned  piety  will  alone  induce  a  right 
frame ;  not  the  fretful  wearied ness  of  this  world, 
but  the  mind  reconciled  to  all  the  dealings  of  the 
Lord,  because  they  are  His,  and  that  for  both 
worlds. — I  gave  an  historical,  antiquarian,  ecclesi- 
astical, picturesque,  mineralogical  and  religious  lec- 
ture on  lona  and  Staffa,  to  about  150  ladies  and 
gentlemen  in  the  school-room  at  Olney  last  Wed- 
nesday. I  spoke  for  two  hours  and  a  half.  I  pro- 
duced fifty  illustrative  pictures,  and  all  my  pebbles 
and  other  specimens.  I  did  the  same  at  Emberton. 
All  expressed  satisfaction. 

'^  Your  affectionate  Father, 

.    ''L.  R." 

''  Turvey,  Dec,  1824. 

"  1  think,  dearest  F ,  that  the  plan  which  I 

suggested  will  be  best  for  your  return  home ;  give 
me  a  letter  to  precede  you.  '  Hie  sumus  ;'  quiet, 
comfortable,  and  uniform  in  our  daily  course,  with- 
out many  striking  events  to  diversify  it  by  day  or 


LETTERS    TO    HIS    CHILDREN.  85 

by  night,  anless  it  be  that  the  younger  bairns  are 
rather  noisy  by  day,  and  the  cats  in  the  garden 
outrageously  so  by  night.  Mamma  is  detained  at 
Bath,  by  the  lingering  and  precarious  state  of  Mrs. 

C -.      Willy  is  not   materially  different.      My 

dear,  much-loved  boy  I  No  one  will  ever  know 
what  I  have  inwardly  undergone  on  his  account 
since  May  last.  I  have  no  reason  to  doubt  that  his 
mind  is  in  a  good  state,  but  I  think  its  exercises  are 
somewhat  too  dependent  on  the  fluctuations  of  his 
body.  I  entreat  you,  when  restored  to  his  com- 
panionship, to  second  every  wish  of  my  heart  in 
promoting  serious,  devotional,  and  determinate 
piety  and  occupation  of  heart.  I  sometimes  fear 
that  his  mind  is  too  playful,  too  comparatively  care- 
less, in  the  midst  of  carefulness.  He  is  an  invalid 
of  too  precarious  a  class  to  trifle,  or  to  be  trifled 
with.  Watch  over  his  besetting  infirmities,  and 
aim,  without  appearing  to  intend  it,  to  correct  them. 
"  Many  persons,  God  be  praised,  appear  at  this 
time  to  be  under  serious  impressions,  and  the  Lord's 
work  in  this  parish  is  evidently  progressing.  I 
earnestly  wish  to  see  it  so  under  my  own  roof,  as 

well  as  in  my  neighbors'  cottages.     Yes,  my  F , 

my  own  loved  child,  I  wish  to  witness  more  positive, 
decided,  uneqaivocal  demonstrations  of  it  in  your 
own  heart.  Beware  of  substituting  mere  senti- 
mentalism  for  vital  experience ;  and  any,  however 
subtle,  species  of  idolatry  for  the  simple,  sincere, 
unsophisticated  love  of  Jesus.  Jesus,  the  sinner's 
refuge ! — Jesus,  the  sinner's  friend  ! — Jesus,  the 
sinner's  companion.     Beware  of  the  fascinating  but 


86  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

dangerous  tribe  of  poets,  fictionists,  story-tellers, 
and  dramatists,  whose  writings  steal  away  the  heart 
from  God,  secretly  poison  the  spring  of  devotion, 
create  false  standards  of  judgment,  and  rob  God  of 
his  honor.  Never  let  the  ignis  fatuus  of  genius 
beguile  you  into  the  swamps  and  puddles  of  immo- 
rality, much  less  of  infidelity  :  the  heart  is  deceitful 
above  all  things,  and  desperately  wicked  :  who  can 
know  it  ?  Ten  thousand  thieves  and  robbers  within 
are  continually  purloining  God  of  our  best  aftec- 
tions  ;  they  assume  imposing  attitudes,  array  them- 
selves in  false  attire,  speak  flattering  words,  '  pro- 
phecy smooth  things,'  delude  the  imagination,  and 
darken  the  soul.  Watch  and  pray,  that  ye  enter 
not  into  temptation.  Always  keep  a  searching 
experimental  book  in  private  reading,  to  accompany 
the  study  and  daily  reading  of  the  word  of  God. 
Beware  of  trifling  and  mere  gossiping  conversation, 
even  with  religious  friends  ;  the  aforenamed  thieves 
and  robbers  are  never  more  active  than  under  the 
plausible  guise  of  unprofitable  intercourse  with 
those  whom  on  good  grounds  we  esteem. 

"  '  The  time  is  short'  should  be  written  on  every 
one  and  every  thing  we  see.  Dear  Charlotte  Bu- 
chanan is  now  gone  to  the  rest  that  remaineth  for 
the  people  of  God.  Do  you  not  now  feel,  that  had 
you  anticipated  so  speedy  a  bereavement,  many  a 
thought  would  have  been  cherished,  many  a  word 
uttered,  many  a  conversation  held,  more  congenial 
with  the  idea  of  her  early  flight  from  time  to 
eternity,  from  the  visible  to  the  invisible  world  ? 
But  you  know  not  who  may  go  next.     If,  then, 


LETTERS    TO    HIS    CHILDREN.  87 

where  health  may  still  bloom  on  the  cheek,  so  much 
consideration  is  due,  how  much  more  so,  when 
sickness  and  anticipated  decay  warn  us  that  those 
we  love  may  not  long  be  with  us.  I  deeply  feel 
that  our  general  standard  of  social  and  domestic 
religion  is  too  low.  It  does  not  sufficiently  partake 
of  the  more  simple  and  pure  vitality  of  the  poor 
man's  piety.  The  cottage  outstrips  the  drawing- 
room,  in  the  genuine  characteristics  of  the  gospel 
efficacy.  The  religion  of  the  one  is  more  like  wine, 
that  of  the  other  wine  and  water  in  various  degrees 
of  mixture.  There  is  not  only  to  be  found  in  the 
religious  world  a  solid,  substantial,  consistent,  and 
devoted  character,  but  there  is  also  what  may  be 
termed  a  pretty  genteel  sort  of  evangelism,  which 
too  well  combines  with  the  luxurious  ease  and  par- 
tial acquiescence  of  the  world,  and  the  flesh,  not  to 
say  the  devil  also.  But  such  evangelism  will  not 
prepare  the  soul  for  sickness,  death,  and  eternity,  or 
will,  at  best,  leave  it  a  prey  to  the  most  fearful 
doubts,  or,  still  more  to  be  feared,  the  delusions  of 
false  peace.  The  way  that  leads  to  eternal  life  is 
much  more  narrow  than  many  of  our  modern  pro- 
fessors are  aware  of ;  the  gate  is  too  strait  to  allow 
all  their  trifling,  and  self-will,  and  fastidiousness, 
and  carnal-mindedness  to  press  through  it.  The 
gospel  is  a  system  of  self-denial :  its  dictates  teach 
us  to  strip  ourselves,  that  we  may  clothe  others ; 
they  leave  us  hungry,  that  we  may  have  wherewith 
to  feed  others  ;  and  send  us  bare-footed  among  the 
thorns  of  the  world,  rather  than  silver-shod,  with 
mincing  steps,   to  walk   at  our  ease  amongst  its 


88  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

snares.  When  our  Lord  was  asked,  '  Are  there 
few  that  shall  be  saved  ?'  he  answered  neither  Yes 
nor  No  ;  but  said,  '  Strive  to  enter  in  at  the  strait 
gate,'  and  this  word  '  strive,'  might  be  translated 
*  agonize.'  Beware  of  belonging  to  that  class  which 
Mrs.  H.  ingeniously  calls  '  the  borderers.'  Choose 
whom  you  will  serve,  and  take  care  not  to  prefer 
Baal.  Ask  yourself  every  night.  What  portion  of 
the  past  day  have  I  given  to  God,  to  Christ,  to 
devotion,  to  improvement,  to  benevolent  exertion, 
to  effectual  growth  in  grace  ?  Weep  for  the  defi- 
ciencies you  therein  discover,  and  pray  for  pardon 
and  brighter  progress.  We  intend  next  Thursday 
to  give  a  little  feast  to  a  great  company  of  the  poor 
children  of  Turvey.  Dear  Willy  will  not  be  able 
this  year  to  explain  the  Magic  Lantern,  and  talk  to 
them  about  '  Lions  and  Whittingtons,'  so  we  must 

try  to  be  optical  without.     H will  act  behind 

the  scenes,  but  make  no  speeches.  #  :^  * 
*****!  hope  to  hear  a  better 

account  of  Mrs.  W ,  to  whom  present  my  very 

affectionate  regards.  From  my  heart  I  wish  you  a 
merry  Christmas  and  a  happy  new  year  when  it 
comes.  St.  James  explains  '  merry'  (James  v.  13), 
so  does  our  Lord  (Luke  xv.  24).  May  such  merry- 
makings be  ours.  Our  love  to  all.  Tell  Mr.  M. 
to  write  to  Wilberforce.  I  want  correspondents 
who  will  do  him  good,  and  not  trifle.  I  am  to 
preach   two  Missionary  Sermons  at  Cambridge  on 

the  thirteenth.     Farewell,  my  beloved  F ,  come 

quickly  here,  and  be  assured  how  truly  I  am, 
"  Your  faithful  loving  Father, 

"  Legii  Richmond." 


LETTERS    TO    HIS    CHILDREN.  89 

''  January  6,  1825. 
**  My  dear  F -5 

"Your  communicalion  is  just  such  as  I  ^yish  you 
often  and  again  to  repeat.  Let  your  heart  be  con- 
fidential, and  you  will  ever  find  mine  responsive  to 
it.  *  ^  *  *  May  no  trifles  ever 
Wean  your  affections  from  the  unspeakably  import- 
ant subjects  of  eternity.  Idols  are  bewitching, 
dangerous  things,  and  steal  away  the  heart  from 
God.  The  most  lawful  things  may  become  idols, 
by  fixing  an  unlawful  degree  of  affection  upon  them. 
One  reason  of  the  difficulties  with  which  you  meet 
on  the  subject  of  prayer  may  be,  the  not  sufficiently 
looking  by  faith  unto  Christ.  Essential  as  prayer 
is,  both  as  a  privilege,  an  evidence,  an  instrument 
of  good,  and  a  source  of  every  blessing :  yet  it  is 
only  the  intercessory  prayer  of  Christ,  that  can 
render  our  prayers  acceptable  and  efficacious,  and  it 
is  only  by  lively  faith  in  the  Great  Intercessor,  that 
we  can  obtain  a  heart  to  pray.  Thus  faith  and 
prayer  act  in  a  kind  of  circle  in  our  minds,  and  each 
produces  (experimentally),  and  is  produced,  by  the 
aid  of  the  other.  I  am  glad  you  like  Mr.  Bicker- 
steth's  little  book  on  prayer, — all  his  publications 
are  good.  There  are  many  books  as  well  as  general 
conversations  about  religious  matters  which,  after 
all,  do  not  bring  home  true  religion  to  the  heart. 
Religious  gossiping  is  a  deceitful  thing  and  deceives 
many.  How  many  professors  of  religion  will 
utter  twenty  flippant  remarks,  pro  or  con,  upon 
a  preacher,  where  one  will  lay  his  remarks  to 
his  heart.      How  many   look    more  to  the    vessel 


90  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

than  the  excellency  of  the  treasure  contained  in  it. 
Some  people  cannot  relish  their  tea  or  coffee,  unless 
served  in  a  delicate  cup,  with  a  pretty  pattern  and 
a  gilt  edge.  Let  poor  dear  Charlotte  Buchanan's 
sudden  call  from  time  to  eternity,  warn  us  how 
needful  it  is  to  '  die  daily ;'  not  to  trifle  with  our 
souls,  when  eternity  may  be  so  near  ;  nor  to  boast  of 
the  morrow,  when  we  know  not  what  a  day  may 
bring  forth.  Willy  is  anxious  for  your  return,  he 
droops  at  present,  and  wishes  to  have  his  dearest 
friends  near  hiin.     *         ^  -  *     I  rejoice  to 

find  your  recent  meditations  have  opened  to  your 
conscience  besetting  infirmities.  Press  forward,  my 
child,  let  them  not  gain  an  ascendency.  Beware  of 
mere  sentimentalism, .  of  satire,  of  fastidiousness 
towards  persons  and  things.  Beware  of  bigotry  and 
prejudice,  o.f  procrastination,  of  the  love  of  fictions, 
of  dangerous,  though  fascinating  poets,  &c.  *  =^  * 
I  wish  you,  my  love,  to  attach  yourself  to  visiting 
the  sick,  and  conversing  usefully  with  the  poor  ;  to 
the  instruction  of  poor  children ;  to  religious  cor- 
respondence and  conversation,  with  a  few  sincere 
friends  ;  and  particularly  strive  to  commence  and 
continue  spiritual  conversation  with  our  dear  Willy. 
"  I  lately  watched  the  young  moon  declining  in 
the  western  sky — it  shone  sweetly.  Sometimes  a 
cloud  shot  across  the  disk — sometimes  a  floating 
mist  partially  obscured  it,  alternately  it  was  bright 
again  :  it  sometimes  silvered  the  edge  of  the  very 
cloud  that  hid  it  from  sight.  At  length  the  lower 
horn  touched  the  horizon,  then  the  upper  horn,  and 
then   it  wholly  disappeared.     Venus  remained  to 


LETTERS    TO    HIS    CHILDREN.  91 

cheer  the  gloom,  I  said  to  myself,  '  There  is  the 
decline  of  my  loved  boy,  and  there  is  the  star  of 
hope.' 

*'  Your  affectionate  father, 

"  L.  Richmond.'* 

I 

^^  London^  June,  1825« 
"  Dear  F.  and  dear  H,. 

''Between  the  morninsf  and  eveninor  services  of 
this'day,  I  have  a  leisure  hour,  in  which  I  feel  as  if 
I  should  like  to  sit  down  and  talk  with  you  two.  I 
miss  our  early  morning  exercises  much,  and  this  for 
the  present  must  be  the  substitute  on  my  part.  I 
have  nothing  very  particular  to  recount,  only  that  I 
have  been  to  a  few  places,  where  I  was  last  summer 
with  my  beloved  Wilberforce,  and  I  have  indulged 
the  silent  tear  as  I  retraced  incidents  never  again  to 
recur.  At  some  places,  where  my  friends  remem- 
ber his  visits  and  conversations,  I  am  asked,  '  how 
he  is,'  with  interest  in  their  manner,  and  have  to  tell 
how  he  has  taken  his  flight  to  another  and  a  better 
world  ;  and  it  affects  me  greatly  so  to  do.  I  know 
not  how  it  is  with  me,  in  regard  to  that  dear  boy's 
loss,  but  I  talk  less  and  think  more  than  ever  about 
him.  The  fortnight  preceding,  and  the  one  succeed- 
ing his  death,  are  indelibly  graven  on  my  heart's  rec- 
ollections, and  sometimes  overpower  me  in  a  way 
of  which  none  of  you  have  any  real  idea.  Some- 
times my  mind  is  strengthened,  but  at  others  weak- 
ened by  these  reflections.  I  am  sometimes  com- 
forted, at  others  terrified  by  these  exercises  of  the 
mind.     With  what  liveliness  do  the  scenes  of  our 


92  FAMILY    PORTRAlTURi]. 

northern  toUr  press  upon  my  mind  :  the  lovely  IsIg 
of  Bute  with  all  its  magnificent  scenery,  the  incom- 
parable beauties  of  Loch  Lomond,  and  Loch  Long, 
with  their  hospitable  friendships ;  the  wild  loveliness 
of  Inverary,  and  Loch  Awe ;  the  line  views  on  the 
Firth  of  Clyde,  with  the  moral  and  intellectual  char- 
acteristics of  many  a  kind  friend ;  the  steamboats, 
the  carts,  the  cars,  the  mountains,  all  associate  with 
him^  and  are  endeared  to  me  beyond  expression.  I 
linger  over  all  the  spots  we  visited  togethor,  itora 
Loch  Awe  to  Glasgow,  Carlisle,  Keswick,  Wood- 
house,  Matlock,  6cc.,  to  Turvey.  I  love  to  think  of 
our  private  reading  in  my  little  bed-room  at  Roth- 
say  ;  his  first  communion  at  Greenock,  and  then  to 
connect  all  with  his  closing  days.  It  is  my  weak- 
ness, my  fault,  my  misfortune,  that  I  cannot  ex- 
press more  of  my  mind  and  feelings  to  you  both. 

Dear,  dear  H !  you  are  now  become  the  prop 

and  stay  of  my  declining  years  ;  think  mucli  of  the 
station  in  which  God  has  placed  you.  My  first- 
born is  a  distant  wanderer,  and  God  knows  when  or 
whether  I  shall  see  him  again  on  earth.  My  second 
boy  is  taken  from  me,  you  are  my  third,  but  now 
my  first.    Be  such  to  your  two  brothers,  particularly 

to  L ;  he  needs  your  constant  superintending 

care  ;  watch  over  him,  do  not  leave  him  to  sock  un- 
profitable associates ;  cherish  the  little  germ  of  hope, 
which  God  has  planted  in  my  bosom  concerning 
him,  let  your  example  influence,  and  your  kind  at- 
tentions encourage  him  in  every  good  way,  and 
think  much  of  your  own  soul.  Beware  of  declen- 
sions,— remember  the  la.^t  words  of  dear  Wilbcr- 


LETTERS    TO    HIS    CHILDREN.  93 

force, — live  up  to  his  advice.  How  my  heart  yearns 
over  you,  and  all  your  prospects.  What  are  you  ? 
What  are  you  to  be,  my  loved  child  ?  Write  to 
me  freely. 

*'  And  my  F also  ;  are  you  as  much  alive  to 

spiritual  things,  as  when  you  hastened  to  the  dying 
bed  of  dear  Willy, — as  when  you  wept  over  his 
coffin  ?  My  child,  dread  all  decays,  and  may  the 
flame  of  spiritual  piety  never  grow  dim  amidst  the 
mists  of  unworthier  speculations.  Visit  the  cot- 
tages,— forsake  not  the  poor,  for  your  Father's  sake. 

"I  have  been  this  morning  where  you  might 
least  have  expected  to  find  me  ;  but  I  went  not 
from  curiosity,  but  from  a  conscientious  wish  to 
know  and  judge  for  myself,  viz.,  to  the  Roman 
Catholic  Chapel  in  Moorfields,  to  hear  high  mass. 
I  was  astonished  at  the  decorations,  the  gorgeous 
dresses  of  the  bishop  and  priests,  charmed  with  the 
exquisite  beauty  of  the  music,  disgusted  at  the 
ceremonial  mummery  of  the  service,  and  uncon- 
vinced by  the  bishop's  eloquent  sermon  in  defence 
of  transubstantiation.  It  was  all  illusion,  delusion, 
and  collusion.  The  service  lasted  near  four  hours. 
I  bless  God  more  than  ever  for  true  Protestantism. 
I  shall  hear  the  Messiah  performed  to-morrow. — 
Such  music  I  love,  it  lifts  my  soul  to  heaven.  I 
am  sick  and  disgusted  with  common  light  modern 
songs, — they  are  unfit  for  Christians.  Oh  I  what 
music  is  my  Willy  enjoying  in  heaven.  Shall  we 
all  enjoy  it  with  him?  The  question  often  sinks 
me  in  the  dtist.  My  dear,  my  most  dear  children  I 
press  forward  to  the  prize  of  the  mark  of  oar  high 


94  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

calling  in  Christ  Jesns.  There  is  an  immense  gulf 
to  be  passed.     Who  is  sufficient  for  these  things  ? 

"  Say  truly  kind  and  pastoral  things  for  me  to  my 
dear  people  at  Turvey.  Truly  I  have  them  in 
my  heart. — My  children  all,  I  kiss  you  from  a  dis- 
tance ;  believe  how  much  and  how  tenderly  I  love 
vou  I      ^      ^      ^ 

*'  p.  S. — Monday. — I  am  just  returned  from 
hearing  the  Messiah,  In  the  two  grand  chorusses, 
I  thought  I  could  hear  my  Willy's  voice,  and  it 
quite  overcame  me.  Past,  present,  and  future,  min- 
gled in  strange  and  affecting  combination.  These 
feelings  are  sometimes  too  much  for  your  poor 
father." 


CHAPTER  IV.  t 

A  man  that  is  young  in  yeais,  may  be  old  in  hours,  if  he  have  lost  no 
time. — Bacon. 

It  may  easily  be  conceived  with  what  anxiety 
Mr.  R.  would  contemplate  the  removal  of  his  boys 
from  the  paternal  roof,  when  their  age  should  ren- 
der it  unavoidable.  The  difficulty  of  placing  young 
persons  in  suitable  situations  is  greatly  increased  in 
the  present  day  by  the  numbers  who  are  pressing 
into  every  trade  and  profession,  and  by  the  modern 
practice  of  excluding  youth  from  the  master's  fam- 
ily ;  a  practice  which  may  conduce  to  the  comfort 
and  convenience  of  the  latter,  but  which  necessarily 
exposes  the  clerk  and  the  apprentice  to  the  worst 
temptations.  Mr.  R.  knew  perhaps  less  than  many 
other  parents  how  to  place  out  his  children  to  ad- 
vantage. He  was  not  wise  for  this  world,  and 
though  few  had  fairer  opportunities,  or  friends  more 
able  to  advise  and  help  him,  he  shrunk  from  avail- 
ing himself  of  these  advantages,  to  a  degree  which 
we  cannot  approve,  while  we  respect  his  delicacy 
and  paramount  regard  to  the  honor  of  religion.  He 
was  not  the  ablest  counsellor  under  such  circum- 
stances, except  indeed  on  one  point,  that  the  wel- 
fare of  the  soul  should  be  the  governing  principle 
in  the  selection  of  a  profession.  He  gave  an  un- 
bounded liberty  of  choice  to  his  children,  with  one 


96  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

exception — an  exception  which  it  is  difficult  to  im- 
agine would  not  equally  be  made  by  every  Christian 
parent.  The  profession  of  arms,  if  not  in  itself  un- 
lawful, is  so  irreconcilable  with  the  spirit  of  a  peace- 
able religion  ;  and  a  life  of  comparative  idleness,  or 
of  activity  amidst  the  horrors  of  destruction,  is  so 
repugnant  to  the  principles  and  feelings  of  a  disciple 
whose  Master  came  not  to  destroy  but  to  save  men's 
lives,  that  a  right-minded  man  can  scarcely  be  sup- 
posed to  admit  a  preference  for  it.  Persons  of  un- 
doubted piety  have  been  discovered  in  camps  as 
well  as  in  peaceful  fields,  but  it  has  generally  been 
found  that  their  knowledge  of  God  was  subsequent 
to  their  choice  of  profession.  The  Christian  under 
an  actual  engagement  in  a  service  may  decide  "  to 
abide  in  the  calling  wherein  he  is  called,"  and  honor 
God  in  his  vocation  ;  but  this  is  a  widely  different 
determination  from  a  choice  made  with  the  knowl- 
edge of  peace  and  love  in  Christ  Jesus. 

One  of  those  events  which  often  inspire  a  prefer- 
ence for  a  soldier's  life — I  mean  the  show  of  military 
parade,  excited  this  inclination  in  Mr.  Richmond's 
younger  son.  To  this  choice  Mr.  R.  expressed  his 
dissent  in  the  strongest  terms.  "  Anything  but 
this,"  said  he,  "  anything  but  this— the  very  men- 
tion of  a  military  life  fills  me  with  horror ;  I  cannot 
bear  to  think  of  a  child  of  mine  engaging  in  scenes 
of  bloodshed  and  destruction.  No  consideration  on 
earth  could  extort  my  consent.  It  would  make  me 
really  miserable." 

The  following  letter  to  his  daughter  F is  the 


RESIDENCE    AT    THE    UNIVERSITY.  97 

best  transcript  of  his  thoughts  and  feelings  on  this 
subject. 

*'  I  grant,  dearest  F ,  you  may  charge   me 

with  the  fault  of  which  you  have  often  been  culpa- 
ble ;  I  have  no  very  good  reason  to  assign  for  delay, 
and  therefore  will  rather  take  my  share  of  blame, 
than  furnish  you  with  a  bad  argument,  or  a  bad  ex- 
ample, in  the  duty  of  letter- writing,  ^  ^  #  j 
rejoice  in  your  account  of  Turvey,  a  spot  that  is 
always  in  my  mind's  eye,  when  not  in  my  sight. 
Dear  loved  parochial  and  domestic  village  I  Thou 
art  endeared  to  me  by  a  thousand  considerations, 
both  as  it  respects  the  living  and  the  dead.  'When 
I  forget  thee,  let  my  right  hand  forget  her  cunnino^.' 
No  succession  of  time  or  circumstances  has  weaned 
or  ever  can  wean  my  heart  from  the  chancel  vault. 
There  is  a  young  triumvirate  increasingly  endured 
to  me,  one  in  heaven  and  two  on  earth,  and  their 
names    shall    be    recorded    together, — Wilberforce, 

Henry,  and  C ,     Dear  boys  I  born  in  the  same 

village,  companions  in  the  same  school,  partners  in 
the  same  recreations,  partakers  of  the  same  eucha- 
ristic  table,  friends  in  every  social  pursuit,  and  dare 
I  say,  heirs  of  the  same  glory  ?  United  by  the  ties 
of  the  same  grace  on  earth,  may  they  share  the 
same  felicity  in  heaven.  I  am  glad  that  your  med- 
itations have  been,  of  late,  deep  and  important. 
Pray  that  they  may  continue  so.  Life  is  short, 
eternity  is  at  hand ;  banish  all  needless  reserve,  ban- 
ish levity,  banish  dulness,  be  much  with  Christ  in 
prayer,  and,  I  had  well-nigh  added,  much  with  your 
father  in  his  study.  Cultivate  an  interior  acquaint* 
5 


98  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

ance  with  H ,  and  cl()  all  yon  can  with  L 

and  T .     There  is  something  wanting  amongst 

us,  whether  in  family  duet  or  chorus,  as  to  really 
improving  and  spiritual  conversation ;  to(3  much 
worldly  bustle,  too  much  regard  to  passing  events, 
too  much  consequent  alienation  from  the  one,  the 
only  thing  needful.  Without  inquiring  who  is  the 
most  in  fault,  let  each  of  us  strive  to  resist  the  evil 
and  cleave  to  the  good.  =^  *  *  When  I  think 
of  my  boys  and  C ,  I  bless  God  for  village  se- 
clusion, and  gi-eatly  rejoice  that  they  have  been  kept 
at  a  comparative  distance  from  the  evil  communi- 
cations which  corrupt  good  manners.  The  world, 
even  in  its  apparently  harmless  form,  is  a  terrible 
snare  to  the  young  and  uninformed  mind.  *  #  * 
I  before  gave  you  my  opini(>n  on  Sunday  evening 
walks,  I  have  often  earnestly  denounced  them  to 
the  people,  and  need  not  add  a  word  to  you  on  this 
head.  *  *  *  *  There  is  a  subject  which  often 
hangs  heavy  on  my  spirits,  I  mean  my  poor  dear 

T 's  incHnation  for  a  military  life.     Hating  war 

as  I  do  from  my  very  heart ;  convinced  as  I  am  of 
the  inconsistency  of  it  with  real  Christianity,  and 
looking  on  the  profession  of  arms  as  irreconcilable 
with  the  principles  of  the  gospel,  I  should  mourn 
greatly  if  one  of  my  boys  chose  so  cruel,  and,  gene- 
rally speaking,  so  profligate  a  line  of  life.  I  could 
never  consent  to  it  on  conscientious  grounds,  and 
therefore  wish  this  bias  for  the  profession  of  arms  to 
be  discouraged.  I  dislike  and  oppose  it  with  my 
whole  heart.  May  God,  the  God  of  peace  bless 
you,  my  much  loved  F ;  give  a  Christian  mes- 


RESIDENCE    AT    THE    UNIVERSITY.  99 

sage  of  pastoral  love  to  my  dear  flock ;  I  often  think 
and  pray  for  them.  Love  to  the  boys.  You  know 
well  how  truly  and  sincerely  I  am, 

"  Your  affectionate  father, 

''  TiEGii  Richmond." 

The  strongest  desire  Mr.  R.  ever  expressed  with 
respect  to  his  children,  was,  that  they  might  devote 
themselves  to  the  service  of  the  sanctuary.  "  I 
have  no  concern,"  he  used  to  say,  "  about  their 
temporal  provision,  God  will  take  care  of  that ; 
but  I  should  rejoice  to  see  every  one  of  my  boys, 
actively  and  usefully  engaged    in  the  church    of 

God."     His  son  H chose  the  sacred  profession, 

to  which  his  father  consented,  but  the  necessity  of 
his  removal  to  the  university  haunted  him  like  a 
spectre.  He  passed  many  anxious  days  and  sleep- 
less nights  in  anticipation  of  the  event ;  and  at 
times  he  seemed  to  be  in  the  deepest  trouble  ;  he 
talked  and  wrote  continually  about  the  possible 
consequences  of  it.  The  subject  seemed  to  absorb 
his  thoughts,  and  depress  his  spirits  :  "  What  if  my 
boy  should  fall  a  victim  to  associations  which  have 
blasted  the  fairest  hopes  of  many  a  Christian  parent. 
He  may  do  without  learning,  but  he  is  rained  body 
and  soul  if  he  be  not  wise  unto  salvation."  Such 
acute  distress  may  appear  to  some  a  sort  of  extrav- 
agance, and  to  others  a  pitiable  dotage.  It  is  true, 
feelings  of  this  order  require  control,  but  allowance 
should  be  made  for  the  overflowings  of  parental 
anxiety,  and  the  dread  of  a  transition  and  revolu- 
tion of  habits  not  without  danger,  and  affording  just 


100  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

grounds  of  apprehension.  There  are  occasions  in 
which  it  is  difficult  to  preserve  the  mind  in  due 
balance,  when  not  to  feel  deeply  implies  a  culpable 
indifference  to  the  interests  of  eternity,  or  at  least 
a  very  low  estimate  of  their  paramount  importance. 

Mr.  Richmond,  as  will  appear  from  subsequent 
events,  was  standing  on  the  verge  of  eternity  ;  his 
health  and  spirits  had  been  greatly  shattered  by  the 
severe  family  trials  through  which  he  had  lately 
been  made  to  pass ;  and  his  feelings  on  all  subjects 
connected  with  religion,  were  wrought  up  to  a  pitch 
of  acuteness  which  rendered  unnecessary  contact 
with  the  world  almost  insupportable.  There  need 
seldom,  however,  be  any  dread  of  a  glow  of  feeling 
that  "  would  consume  us  ;"  it  is  much  more  to  be 
deplored,  that  men  can  sustain  the  ''  exceeding 
weight  of  things  which  are  eternal"  with  so  little 
emotion,  and  waste  their  chief  energies  on  those 
which  endure  only  for  a  season  and  then  flee  away 
forever. 

With  respect  to  our  universities,  I  am  not  dis- 
posed to  join  in  the  unmeasured  and  ignorant 
objurgation,  with  which  they  have  been  assailed  by 
their  enemies,  and  even  by  those  who  owe  much 
of  their  eminence  in  society  to  the  advantages 
derived  from  them.  It  is  easy  to  blame  and  difficult 
to  improve ;  plausible  theories  may  be  suggested, 
and  tlie  rude  hand  of  revolution,  under  the  specious 
name  of  reform,  may  proceed  to  experiments,  which 
are  often  mischievous,  and  always  uncertain  in  their 
issue.  The  question  is  not  what  is  desirable,  but 
what  is  practicable  :  how  little  is  to  be  expected 


RESIDENCE    AT    THE    UNIVERSITY.  101 

from  attempting  too  much,  is  observable  in  the 
strictness  of  statutes,  even  to  absurd jpninutise,  com- 
pared with  the  feeble  discipline,  which  corrupt 
beings  will  allow  to  be  enforced.  It  is  indeed 
devoutly  to  be  wished,  that  a  more  vigilant  super- 
intendence were  exercised  over  the  private  habits 
of  the  young  men,  as  to  the  facilities  of  contracting 
debts,  and  of  admission  into  college  after  the  clos- 
ing of  the  gates  ;  that  something  more  of  the  spirit 
of  religion  were  infused  into  its  forms  .  that  less 
were  left  to  the  discretion  of  "  the  mad  age  ;"  that 
the  authority  and  duty  of  the  tutor  should  not  be 
confined  to  the  hours  of  lecture.  Desirable  as  are 
such  improvements  in  college  discipline,  I  am  not 
prepared  to  show  how  they  can  be  made,  unless 
the  minds  of  men  were  more  deeply  impressed  with 
the  true  end  of  education,  the  training  a  soul  for 
eternity  :  and  T  shall  not  indulge  in  idle  declamation 
against  evils  which  I  may  lament,  but  cannot  cure. 
The  dangers  incident  to  inexperienced  youth  at  the 
university  are  confessedly  great,  but  they  attach 
to  all  situations  of  their  early  career,  and  are  not 
peculiar  to  their  residence  at  these  noble  monu- 
ments of  ancient  piety  and  munificence.  Yet,  a 
Christian  parent,  in  matriculating  his  son  at  College, 
will  feel  increasing  responsibility  to  commend  him 
to  the  Spirit  of  God  for  protection  and  guidance, 
and  to  use  every  precaution  against  the  evil  influ- 
ence to  which  he  may  be  exposed  from  the  corrupt 
example  of  contemporaries,  or  the  too  great  liberty 
allowed  to  himself  I  would  suggest  the  inestimable 
advantages  to  be  obtained  from  the  help  and  super- 


102  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

intendence  of  a  private  tutor,  of  an  age  to  be  a 
companion,  ai^  of  talents  and  piety  sufficient  to 
make  him  a  useful  guide.  Sach  a  one  intrusted 
with  authority  to  direct  his  pupiPs  conduct  and 
studies,  would  secure  everything,  within  human 
means,  which  an  anxious  parent  could  desire. 

The  last  production  of  Mr.  R.'s  pen  was  a  paper 
of  v/arnings  and  instructions  for  his  son.  This 
paper  was  found  on  his  table  after  his  death,  and 
was  evidently  the  result  of  his  dying  meditations. 
I  deeply  regret  that  it  has  been  lost,  and  that  I 
cannot  gratify  the  reader  by  the  valuable  hints 
which  it  might  have  suggested.  The  subject,  how- 
ever, is  too  important  to  be  passed  over  in  silence, 
and  I  will  venture  to  supply  the  defect  by  a  letter 
of  my  own,  written  under  circumstances  not  much 
dissimilar. 

TO  A  YOUNG  FRIEND  ON  GOING  TO  COLLEGE. 
"  My  DEAR  YOUNG  FRIEND, 

''You  request  ray  advice  on  a  subject  which 
will  probably  give  a  direction  to  your  whole  life. 
I  give  it  you  with  the  more  satisfaction,  because  I 
believe  you  are  not  one  of  those  who  ask  counsel 
with  a  previous  determination  to  follow  their  own 
judgment,  and  who  set  no  value  on  experience  for 
which  they  have  not  paid  the  price  in  their  own 
mistakes  ;  but  are  anxiously  looking  out  for  a  guide, 
and  ready  to  follow  him.  After  twelve  years'  res- 
idence in  one  of  our  universities,  I  may  fairly  be 
supposed  to  know  something  both  of  their  dangers 
and  advantages.     I  am  aware  of  the  temptations  to 


LETTER    TO    A    YOUNG    MAN.  103 

which  you  will  be  exposed  in  your  new  situation  ; 
yet  with  respect  to  myself,  I  may  assert,  that  they 
were  by  no  means  so  great  as  others  have  repre- 
sented them, — fewer,  and  less  dangerous  than  the 
after  trials  of  manhood,  or  even  those  of  my  boyish 
days  at  school. 

"  The  opportunity  you  now  have  of  acquiring 
solid  learning,  and  of  laying  the  foundation  of  all 
that  will  be  useful  to  you  in  life,  is  incalculably 
valuable,  and  it  should  be  your  chief  concern  to 
embrace  the  golden  moment  with  firm  and  steady 
grasp.  Accept  then,  with  my  best  wishes  and 
prayers  for  your  welfare,  the  result  of  past  obser- 
vation at  Alma  Mater. 

'^1.  Wherever  you  are,  in  or  out  of  the  univer- 
sity, much  will  depend  on  the  regulation  of  your- 
self. We  are  apt  to  lay  the  blame  of  our  indiscre- 
tions and  failures  on  our  circumstances,  and  to 
suppose  that  we  should  act  differently  under  other 
influences ;  but  this  is  a  great  mistake  ;  for  cir- 
cumstances, though  I  admit  they  have  a  powerful 
influence  on  our  conduct,  do  not  so  much  form,  as 
discover  our  character.  Be  '  Lord  of  your  own 
mind,'  and  you  will  rise  above  outward  trials.  Try, 
then,  to  understand  yourself — your  strong,  and 
your  weak  points. 

"  Begin  and  end  the  day  with  prayer ;  but  con- 
tent not  yourself  with  an  indolent  or  hurried  exer- 
cise of  devotion  without  heart  or  meaning,  and  a 
cursory  or  irregular  glancing  at  a  passage  of  Scrip- 
ture, under  an  idea  of  satisfying  conscience,  or 
doing  your  duty.     Consider  seriously  the  chief  end 


104  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

of  the  appointment,  as  the  prescribed  channel  o{ 
intercourse  with  God.  Your  strength,  success,  and 
preservation  from  evil,  all  depend  on  communion 
with  him.  Everything  will  go  well  or  ill  witlj 
you,  in  proportion  as  you  arc  brought  into  contact 
with  the  divine  Spirit.  In  reading  the  Bible,  (I  am 
now  speaking  of  religion  and  its  practical  application 
to  your  heart  and  conscience,  and  not  of  theology  as 
a  science  and  profession,)  take  a  few  verses,  and 
meditate  and  pray  over  them  till  you  get  the  spirit 
and  meaning  of  them  wrought  into  your  own  sonl. 
If  you  do  not  understand  a  passage,  you  may  apply 
to  a  commentator  for  explanation ;  otherwise  bo 
your  own  expositor, — preach  to  your  own  heart, 
and  feed  on  the  word  of  God  amidst  the  aspirations 
of  prayer  and  praise,  and  heavenly  thoughts  and 
affections.  Examine  yourself  by  it,  to  obtain  con- 
viction of  sin,  and  to  discover  your  defects  and 
besetments, — to  judge  of  your  progress,  and  pray 
for  uprightness  and  deep  seriousness.  Look  for- 
ward to  the  probable  events  of  the  day,  and  seek 
grace  and  help  to  meet  trial,  and  improve  oppor- 
tunity. Consider  that  you  are  entering  society 
with  a  body  of  sin  and  death,  ever  liable  to  impart 
or  receive  injury,  and  while  you  carefally  guard 
against  the  approaches  of  evil,  you  should  aim,  like 
your  master,  to  'go  about  doing  good.'  I  think  an 
hour  may  be  well  employed  in  this  holy  exercise. 
At  night,  a  shorter  time  may  suffice  ;  for  the  spirits 
will  flag,  and  the  body  ho  wearied.  The  efficacy 
of  prayer  does  not  depend  on  the  length  of  time 
employed  in  acts  of  devotion  :  God  thinks  of  mercy, 


LETTER    TO    A    YOUNG    MAN.  105 

and  not  sacrifice,  and  so  must  you.  Such  remarks 
are  applicable  to  all  persons  and  situations,  but  are 
more  especially  important  to  one  in  your  circum- 
stances. You  are  now  deprived  of  your  father's 
conversation,  and  the  devotional  exercises  of  the 
family,  and  you  have  need  to  redouble  your  dili- 
gence in  private  devotion.  Remember,  then,  that 
your  first  and  gTcatest  trial  will  be  in  your  closet ; 
and  if  you  fail  here,  all  will  go  wrong  with  you 
throughout  the  day.  If  you  rob  God,  to  turn  to 
Euclid  or  Euripides,  or  hurry  away  to  chapel  with- 
out private  prayer,  because  you  have  given  way  to 
sloth, — other  motives  may  stimulate  you  to  be  dili- 
gent in  business,  but  you  will  not  long  continue 
'  fervent  in  spirit,  serving  the  Lord ;'  and  if  his 
Holy  Spirit  forsake  you, — and  he  will  forsake  you 
if  you  grieve  him  by  neglect  of  the  means  of  grace, 
■ — you  will  fall  into  many  inconsistencies,  and  in 
the  end  lose  all  love  for  religion,  and  concern  for 
your  soul,  and  perhaps  by  your  conduct  discredit 
yourself  even  in  the  eyes  of  the  world. 

"It  is  a  good  habit  to  keep  some  subject  in  mind 
for  occasional  employment, — a  promise — a  precept 
— an  attribute  of  God,  on  which  to  meditate  in 
every  vacant  moment.  There  are  intervals  in  the 
course  of  your  college  duties,  when  you  cannot  sit 
down  to  serious  studies.  An  idle  moment  furnishes 
at  all  times  a  nidus  for  a  temptation. 

"2.  Be  very  cautious  in  the  formation  of  friend- 
ships. Your  religious  and  general  improvement 
will  be  closely  connected  with  the  character  of  your 
associates. 

5* 


106  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

"  You  will  find  me  correct  in  dividing  the  young 
men  into  two  clashes ;  of  which  one  affects  to  des- 
pise, and  the  other  professes  to  honor  religion.     The 
former  class  comprise  three  sets  or  parties,  all  agree- 
ing to  live  without  God  in  the  world,  but  differing 
in  their   manners  and   pursuits.     The  first  of  the 
three  are  the  men  of  family  and  fortune,  who  spend 
their    time   in   amusement,    attending  as   little    as 
possible  to  the  studies  of  the  place.     For  the  most 
part  they  are  men  of  profligate  habits,  though  not 
all  equally  vicious.     These  call  themselves  the  gen- 
tlemen.    There  is  another  set  of  young  men  who 
pass  by  the  name  of  tlie  scamps  ;   who  are  not  bet- 
ter disposed  than  the  former,  but  they  have  not  the 
same    means  of  doing    mischief  to   themselves   or 
others ;  they  are,  however,  quite  as  ignorant,  idle, 
and  thoughtless,  with  the  addition  of  coarseness  and 
vulgarity  of  manners.     To  neither  of  these  classes 
must  you  approximate,  but  (to  speak  academically) 
you  must  cut  them  all.     I  am  under  no  apprehen- 
sion of  your  familiarizing  yourself  with  low  com- 
pany ;  but  a  silk  gown,  or  a  gold  tuft, — a  wish  to 
form  a  high   connexion,  may  tempt  you  to  tolerate 
what  ought  to  be  intolerable  to  you.     At  first  you 
may  feel  disgust  at  profane  and  vicious  language 
and  manners.     Insensibly  they  will  excite  less  hor- 
ror.    After  a  time  you  will  think  it  enough  to  be 
personally  exempt  from  these  offences — then  you 
may  begin  to  excuse  and  palliate  ;  till  at  length  you 
break  bounds,   and   assume  a  conduct,  and  avow  a 
creed,  repugnant  to  your  judgment,  and  which  your 
heart  secretly   condemns.     You  will  have  no  diffi- 


LETTER    TO     A     YOUNG     MAN.  107 

culty  in  avoiding  such  associates ;  for,  unless  you 
seek  an  introduction,  they  will  not  notice  you.  The 
third  party  which  pretends  to  no  religion  are  those 
who  are  called  the  reading  men  at  Cambridge,  and 
the  quizzes  at  Oxford.  Their  diligent  application 
to  study,  and  desire  of  distinction  in  the  university, 
are  worthy  of  your  imitation ;  for  you  are  sent  to 
college,  not  merely  to  get  a  degree,  and  barely 
escape  rejection  at  last,  but  to  obtain  a  creditable 
testimony  that  you  have  profited  by  the  studies  of 
the  place :  yet,  while  I  commend  the  industry  of  the 
characters  alluded  to,  and  their  generally  correct 
conduct,  I  do  not  hesitate  to  say,  that  their  motives 
and  objects  are  not  such  as  I  could  enforce  upon  you. 
^'  It  is  possible  that  my  advice  to  you  may  be 
different  from  that  of  some  who  nevertheless  agree 
with  me   in  principle.     I  remember  it  was  said  to 

you  by ,  '  Don't  look  at  every  man  not  strictly 

religious  as  a  wild  bear,  and  a  dangerous  compan- 
ion.' Certainly  it  is  not  a  duty  to  cherish  morose 
feelings,  but  rather  to  cultivate  a  sweetness  of  tem- 
per, and  a  courteous  behavior  towards  all :  and  an 
occasional  interchange  of  visits  v^th  those  who  will 
converse  profitably  on  literary  pursuits,  cannot  be 
objected  to.  Yet  I  wish  to  be  more  explicit  as  to 
the  proper  degree  of  intercourse  with  those  who  do 
not  fear  God,  however  creditable  and  desirable  the 
acquaintance  may  be  in  other  respects.  If  you 
were  of  long  standing  in  religion,  you  might  venture 
on  many  things  which  you  cannot  now  attempt  with 
safety.  They  might  even  become  a  duty.  The 
firemen  must  scale  the  burning  roof,  while  the  spec- 


108  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE, 

tator  of  the  flames  had  better  keep. at  a  distance. 
You  must  not  try  how  much  poison  your  constitu- 
tion will  bear,  or  risk  your  soul's  health  for  the  sake 
of  any  temporal  advantage.  Tlie  ivorld — by  which 
I  mean  those  who  are  ignorant  of  religion,  or  whose 
hearts  are  not  in  it,- — must  ever  be  to  the  true  ChriS' 
tian,  a  cross,  or  a  snare  ;  and  luhen  it  ceases  to  be 
the  one,  it  ivill  invariably  become  the  other.  I 
cannot  approve  of  whole  evenings  passed  in  com- 
pany, where  it  is  understood  that  God  is  never  to 
be  referred  to,  and  where  the  least  observation  con- 
nected with  eternity,  creates  a  silence,  if  it  does  not 
provoke  a  sneer,  an  opposition  of  sentiment,  or  a 
feeling  of  distaste.  To  be  much  in  society  of  this 
kind  beyond  the  demands  of  duty  or  necessity, 
which  you  can  seldom  plead,  is  surely  no  better 
than  constructive  treason  against  our  Lord  and 
Saviour.  If  you  make  the  experiment,  mark  the 
effect  on  your  own  mind.  If  the  tone  of  religious 
feeling  be  impaired,  if  you  grow  dull  and  heartless 
in  devotion,  be  assured  that  something  is  wrong  in 
your  motives,  pursuits,  and  associations.  So  long 
as  you  agree  to  live  and  converse  as  if  the  world 
were  everything  and  God  nothing,  you  may  be 
tolerated,  though  your  professed  attachment  to  reli- 
gion be  known ;  or  you  may  even  be  respected  for 
qualities  that  are  amiable  and  estimable,  and  your 
society  may  afford  satisfaction  to  literary  young 
men,  who  would  keep  you  at  a  distance  if  you  acted 
consistently  with  your  profession  of  a  purer  faith, 
and  stricter  conversation.  The  old  rule,  '  noscitur 
a  sociis,'  is  a  very  wise  and  safe  one.     Compare  the 


LETTER    TO    A    VOUNG    MAN.  109 

conversation  of  your  new  associates,  if  you  form 
such,  with  the  discussions  you  have  heard  under 
the  paternal  roof ;  wliere,  though  the  subjects  were 
not  always  strictly  religious,  yet  the  spirit  in  which 
they  were  treated  had  a  tendency  not  only  to  im- 
prove the  mind,  but  in  some  way  or  other  to  sanctify 
the  heart.  Perhaps  I  feel  the  more  strongly  on  this 
subject,  partly  from  having  seen  many  a  hopeful 
young  person  entirely  ruined  by  a  friendship  formed 
on  merely  literary  grounds,  and  partly  because  I 
perceive  a  gradual  breaking  down  of  old-fashioned 
distinctions,  to  the  serious  injury  of  true  religion. 

"  Your  father  has,  I  find,  earnestly  entreated  you 
to  cast  in  your  lot  with  those  who,  by  way  of  re- 
proach, are  termed  the  saints.  I  know  more  of  this 
class  than  he  does,  who  must  be  in  a  degree  unac- 
quainted with  university  habits  and  students  ;  and 
I  would  recommend  you  not  to  identify  yourself 
with  a  sect  or  party  of  any  kind,  without  careful 
discrimination.  The  religion  of  the  Bible  is  often 
a  different  thing  from  that  of  its  professed  advo- 
cates ;  and  if  our  hearts  be  right  with  God,  there 
will  be  occasions  when  we  must  stand  alone.  I  do 
not  mean  to  reflect  on  the  religious  body  ;  for  what- 
ever holiness  or  truth  there  is  in  the  world,  will  be 
found  chiefly  among  them  ;  but  false  brethren  have 
ever  crept  unawares  into  the  Church  of  God,  and 
have  done  great  injury  to  sincere  and  honest  mem- 
bers of  it ;  and  there  is  always  reason  to  fear  that 
when  credit  and  interest  are  promoted  by  a  profes- 
sion of  religion,  some  will  consent  to  wear  our 
badge,  who  are  strangers  to  our  principles.     In  this 


110  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

class  you  will  also  find  the  sons  of  truly  good  men, 
introduced  and  noticed  on  the  score  of  their  parents' 
piety.     These  are  acquainted  with  the  theory  of  re- 
ligion, but  their  hearts  are  far  from  being  influenced 
by  it ;  and  former   restraints   being  removed,  they 
are  apt  to  yield  to  corrupt  inclination  ;  and  if  they 
even  keep  within  the  bounds  of  decency,  (which  is 
not    always  the   case,)   they   gradually   adopt    the 
manners  and  habits  of  the  world.     Some  of  higher 
pretensions  to  piety,  affect  to  despise  both  the  studies 
and  honors  of  the  university,  and  become  mere  idlers 
and  gossips.     They  are  ready  for  disputation,  and 
arrogant  in  maintaining  some  peculiar  view  of  their 
own,  to  the  neglect  of  the  plain,  simple,  practical 
truths  of  religion.     You  need  not  incur  a  quarrel 
in  shunning  their  society.     Hold  up  the  torch  of 
real,  spiritual,  heart  religion,  and  these  birds  of  the 
night  will  flee  away  and  leave  you.     You  will  also 
meet  with  a  few  religionists  of  a  squeamish  fastidi- 
ous spirit,  who  cannot  tolerate  the  defects  of  less 
polished,  but  truly  honest  and  sincere  young  men. 
Their  idol  is  talent,  which  seems  to  men  of  this 
order  to  compensate  for  the  want  of  piety,  if  it  does 
not  excuse  much  that  is  wrong  in  principle  and 
practice.       They    seldom    discover    any    vigor,    or 
meaning,  or  spirituality  in  their  religious  profes- 
sion;   but  dwell  much  on  gentlemanly  behavior, 
and  a  proper  compliance   with  the  world.      You 
must  seek  your  companions    amongst    those    who 
have  evidently  thrown  heart  and  soul  into  the  ser- 
vice of  their  master,  and  prefer  an  honest  man  with 
his  blunders  and  disadvantages,  to  those  who  spar- 


LETTER    TO    A    YOUNG    MAN. 


Ill 


kle  with  the  splendor  of  superior  talent,  but  whose 
morbid  sensibilities  chill  the  glow  of  piety. 

"3.  I  particularly  recommend  you  to  decline 
breakfast  parties ;  for  even  when  the  conversation 
may  be  interesting  and  generally  improving,  there 
is  a  temptation  to  prolong  it  unreasonably,  and 
thus  to  infringe  upon  the  regular  hours  and  habits 
of  study. 

"  4.  When  at  college  I  had  a  great  dread  of 
loungers.  My  rooms  being  near  the  tutor's,  I  was 
liable  to  be  pestered  with  triflers  who  came  to  pass 
away  half  an  hour  in  just  doing  nothing.  To  bid 
them  leave  me  would  have  been  an  act  of  incivility  ; 
to  have  looked  sour  or  appeared  fidgetty,  would  have 
seemed  not  less  so ;  yet  repeated  interruptions  be- 
came at  last  insupportable,  and  I  had  recourse  to  a 
stratagem  which  I  thought  innocent,  and  which  w^as 
certainly  very  successful.  I  entertained  the  man  of 
taste  with  the  discord  of  my  violincello,  and  the  man 
of  no  taste  with  a  passage  from  a  classic.  After 
yawning  a  response  or  two  he  soon  left  me,  voted 
me  a  bore,  and  sought  more  congenial  society.  If 
you  are  hard  pushed  you  may  make  the  experiment, 
and  I  can  promise  a  similar  result.  Security  from 
morning  interruptions  must  be  obtained  at  any  ex- 
pense. Idleness  is  very  contagious,  and  gossiping 
of  all  kinds  is  a  sad  waste  of  time. 

"  5.  Remember  (for  it  is  an  invaluable  maxim) 
that  method  is  the  soul  of  business^  and  that  steady 
perseverance  is  necessary  to  your  successful  cultiva- 
tion of  knowledge.  Let  your  time  be  duly  portioned 
out,  and  everything  done  in  its  season. — Let  each 


112  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

hour  have  its  allotted  employment. — Rise  early. — 
Keep  good  hours — your  health  and  success  both  de- 
pend on  it.  Sitting  up  late  is  a  very  bad  habit. 
Guard  against  inequality  and  irregularity  :  if  you 
read  hard  for  a  week,  and  then  idle  away  whole 
days  in  boating  and  riding,  you  will  make  less 
progress  than  persons  inferior  to  yourself  in  ability, 
but  who  are  steady  and  regular  in  their  application. 
Nothing  is  to  be  done  by  fits  and  starts. 

"  6.  You  ou^ht  not  to  think  of  des^radins:  into  the 
class  called  the  non-reading  men^  and  content  your- 
self with  a  Pol  degree^  under  an  idle  pretence  of 
gaining  more  general  knowledge  :  aim  at  some  aca- 
demical distinction.  I  dare  not  hold  out  to  you  as 
a  motive,  the  love  of  reputation  or  the  gratification 
of  pride ;  but  study  night  and  day  to  honor  God 
and  religion.  It  is  worth  while  to  labor  hard  to 
have  something  valuable  in  the  eyes  of  the  world  to 
lay  at  the  foot  of  the  cross.  I  have  always  admired 
Selden's  reply,  when  asked  how  a  man  of  his  attain- 
ments could  lower  himself  by  superstition  (for  such 
his  piety  was  miscalled) — '  You  may  despise  relig- 
ion, but  whatever  be  my  attainments  in  human 
learning,  I  do  count  them  all  but  dung  and  dross  in 
comparison  of  the  excellency  of  the  knowledge  of 
Jesus  Christ  my  Lord.'  Men  will  value  the  truth 
as  they  respect  those  who  profess  it.  You  may  find 
persons  who  cloak  their  indolence  or  their  dulness 
under  a  misapplication  of  some  text  of  Scripture  ; 
but  be  assured  the  most  spiritual  and  really  useful 
men,  if  not  al\^ys  possessed  of  the  greatest  talent, 
are  those  w^ho  have  made  the  most  of  their  oppor- 


MATRICULATING    AT    CAMBRIDGE.  113 

tunities.  No  one's  name  slumbers  in  the  Tripos  ;  it 
follows  him  through  life,  and  what  he  has  been  at 
College,  will  help  or  injure  his  influence  in  many  a 
country  village.  When  a  young  clergyman  excites 
attention  by  a  serious  application  to  his  duties,  it  is 
a  common  inquiry  amongst  persons  who  might  be 
supposed  not  to  trouble  themselves  about  such  mat- 
ters. What  degree  did  he  take  ?  Was  he  distin- 
guished at  College  ?  and  he  will  rise  or  sink  in  their 
estimation  accordingly.  There  may  be  prejudice 
and  mistake  in  this,  but  it  carries  no  small  weight 
to  be  able  to  say.  Are  they  philosophers,  mathema- 
ticians, or  linguists  ?  so  am  I.  Besides,  the  habit  of 
application  to  subjects  not  immediately  connected 
with  religion,  is  a  good  discipline  of  the  mind,  and 
will  accustom  it  to  correct  and  deep  thinking  on  re- 
ligion itself.  The  studies  of  the  university  are  not, 
as  some  suppose,  a  mere  literary  trial  of  skill,  and 
of  no  further  use  than  to  fill  up  a  space  in  human 
life,  or  fit  a  man  for  scientific  pursuits  alone.  If 
you  find  the  lectures  dry  or  your  Latin  irksome, 
think  of  working  for  God's  glory,  and  Christ's  honor, 
and  it  will  infuse  a  vigor  and  sweetness  into  them. 
I  have  heard  some  good  young  men  complain  of  the 
loss  of  spirituality  and  taste  for  the  Bible,  and  as- 
cribe this  mischief  to  the  absorbing  influence  of 
their  studies ;  but  their  studies  are  not  to  blame, — 
it  is  the  spirit,  design,  and  end  with  which  they  are 
undertaken.  A  man  may  hold  communion  with 
God  through  any  medium,  or  in  any  occupation,  if 
his  heart  and  aim  be  right :  he  may  become  carnal 
in  the  midst  of  theological  pursuits,  and  may  pre- 


114  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

serve  the  utmost  spirituality  while  wading  through 
the  rubbish  of  the  schools.  Remember  that  it  is 
not  your  work,  but  your  motive,  which  will  injure 
or  keep  alive  your  piety. 

"  You  will  be  required  to  go  to  the  college  chapel 
morning  and  evening,  with  the  exception  of  seven 
or  eight  times  a  weelv,  when  you  may  exercise  your 
own  discretion  as  to  attendance.  I  would  advise 
you  to  be  ahvays  present.  The  example  even  of 
the  religious  young  men  may  fail  you ;  many  of 
whom  regard  this  regular  attendance  as  a  waste  of 
time.  They  complain  of  the  rapid  and  slovenly 
way  in  which  the  service  is  performed,  and  that 
there  is  no  devotion  in  chants  and  anthems.  But 
you  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  offences  of  others, 
or  wdth  modes  of  worship.  It  is  God's  house,  God's 
service.  Honor  both,  and  you  shall  not  have  to 
bewail  the  unprofitableness  of  prayer  under  any 
circumstances  or  defects.  I  enjoy  cathedral  ser- 
vice,— it  is  to  me  truly  devotional.  Men  who  dis- 
like music  may  find  it  less  in  unison  with  their 
feelings,  but  before  it  is  denounced  as  a  relic  of 
popery  it  should  be  remembered  that  the  temple 
service  was  still  more  musical,  and  our  Lord  was 
there.  He  would  not  have  sanctioned  by  his  pres- 
ence a  mode  of  worship  which  contained  in  it  any- 
thing injurious  to  devotion,  or  inconsistent  with  a 
right  frame  of  spirit  in  a  true  worshipper.  Go, 
also,  to  chapel  in  proper  time ;  I  know  the  colleges 
allow  their  young  men  to  come  in  when  a  third  of 
the  service  is  over,  without  a  mark  of  absence  :  a 
practice  which  (with  all  due  submission  to  masters 


MATRICULATING    AT    CAMBRIDGE.  115 

and  deans)  gives  me  a  painful  feeling,  for  it  looks  as 
if  chapel  attendance  was  considered  as  a  mere  roll- 
call,  and  it  is  not  surprising  that  the  juniors  should 
hurry  to  chapel  from  their  beds  in  a  disgraceful  dis- 
habille under  cover  of  the  gown  or  the  surplice.  At 
first  your  motives  may  be  suspected,  but  consist- 
ency in  this  and  all  other  things  will  ultimately 
procure  respect. 

"7.  Never  think  any  time  misspe?it  ivhich  is 
employed  in  the  service  and  presence  of  God.  Your 
attendance  at  St.  Mary's,  though  expected,  is  not 
exacted.  I  have  been  sorry  to  hear  some  young 
men  of  high  pretensions  to  religion  speak  very  con- 
temptuously of  University  sermons,  and  excuse 
their  neglect  of  attending  them  on  the  ground  of 
unprofitableness.  Many  admirable  discourses  for 
head  and  heart  are  delivered  at  that  church,  and  it 
is  a  want  of  sense  to  compare  a  University  pulpit 
with  that  of  a  parish.  Sermons  are  much  improved 
in  doctrine  and  application  since  my  day,  yet  even 
then  I  seldom  heard  a  discourse  from  which  I  could 
not  gain  something  useful,  either  in  the  elucidation 
of  the  text,  or  by  inference,  and  use  of  the  preach- 
er's material.  But  whatever  be  the  defect  of  a  ser- 
mon, recollect  who  has  set  you  the  example  of  hon- 
oring the  appointment  of  lawful  authority  in  church 
and  state,  and  "  fulfilling  all  righteousness."  I  would 
have  you  affiliate  yourself  to  the  habits,  usages 
studies,  and  worship  of  a  university  man,  and  to 
cultivate  a  spirit  of  modesty,  regularity,  order,  hu- 
mility, and  submission ;  as  the  prime  duty  and 
greatest  ornament  of  a  young  man  in  statu  pu- 


116  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

pillari^  whose  province  it  is  to  learn  and   not   to 
teach. 

''  8.  You  wish  me  to  sketch  out  a  plan  of  study, 
and  an  orderly  arrangement  of  your  time.  Much 
depends  on  college  appointments ;  but  leaving  you 
to  improve  or  alter  in  reference  to  them.  I  will  com- 
ply with  your  request,  observing  that  it  is  more 
easy  for  me  to  dictate,  than  for  yon  to  execute. 
You  have  need  to  pray  for  firmness  and  resolution  ; 
since  any  relaxation  or  breach  on  your  part,  except 
in  cases  of  imperious  necessity,  will  leave  you  re- 
solving and  re-resolving,  but  never  attaining  to  any 
eminence.  I  suppose  the  chapel  service  at  eight  in 
the  morning  and  six  in  the  evening,  hall  at  four, 
Icctare  at  ten,  with  some  other  college  exercise 
which  you  must  arrange  as  you  can,  the  amount  of 
time  will  be  the  same.  Be  always  at  your  private 
devotions  at  six  in  the  morning.  I  need  not  repeat 
what  I  have  already  said  on  this  subject,  except  it 
be  again  to  urge  you,  on  no  account  to  proceed  to 
business,  till  you  have  sought  help  from  God.  If 
you  be  not  inflexibly  steady  and  regular  on  this 
point,  you  will  lose  the  spirit  of  religion,  and  retain 
only  the  dregs  of  form,  amidst  gods  and  goddesses, 
cubes  and  squares,  and  triangles,  and  all  the  nuilti- 
tudinous  ideas  which  are  poured  into  your  mind. 
Devote  the  next  hour  to  Theology  ;  I  will  give  you 
the  first  year  to  get  an  acquaintance  with  the  He- 
brew Bible  and  Greek  Testament,  till  you  can  read 
both  with  as  much  ease  as  the  English  version. 
You  will  need  no  other  helps  than  BuxtorfF's  small 
lexicon,  and  Sehleusner's  two  volumes  for  the  Tes- 


MATRICULATING    AT    CAMBRIDGE.  117 

tament.  You  are  tolerably  ready  with  the  gram- 
mar of  each  language,  or  I  should  have  added  Si- 
mon's grammar  for  the  Hebrew.  The  very  few 
chapters  in  Chaldee  will  be  easily  mastered  with 
BuxtorfF's  larger  grammer  and  lexicon.  Use  and 
observation  will  supply  a  more  critical  knowledge 
of  these  languages  without  any  other  assistance. 
Employ  the  second  year  Avith  Scott,  for  a  further 
acquaintance  with  the  Scriptures.  I  might  point 
out  more  able  expositors  on  detached  portions,  but 
you  will  find  in  him  a  good  compilation  from  more 
extensive  works.  You  need  not  perplex  yourself 
with  too  many  expositors.  It  would  be  a  very 
heavy  imposition  to  wade  through  all  the  trash  and 
prosings  which  have  been  appended  to  divinity. 
Difficulties  may  sometimes  be  cleared  up  by  Chro- 
nology, Geography,  and  Parallelisms,  but  in  most 
cases  the  Bible  is  its  own  and  best  interpreter.  For 
the  same  hour  in  the  third  year,  read  Hartweli 
Home.  This  is  an  invaluable  book  for  a  young 
man,  and  yon  must  not  lay  him  aside  till  you  have 
fully  digested  his  admirable  compilations,  to  guide 
you  in  more  discursive  reading  hereafter.  College 
preparations  will  sufficiently  embrace  the  subject 
of  evidences.  Let  me  seriously  caution  you  against 
a  spirit  of  curious  metaphysical  inquiry  on  those 
parts  of  theology,  which  are  more  fit  for  age  and 
experience,  if  indeed  they  are  ever  safe,  or  profit- 
able, or  intelligible.  The  arrogant  dogmatism  of 
some  religionists  is  intolerable,  their  presumption 
full  of  danger,  and  their  spirit  and  temper  most 
unchristian.     On  many  points  it  is  best  to  say  with 


118  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

Leigh  ton,  "  Here  I  choose  rather  to  stand  on  the 
shore,  and  in  the  survey  of  God's  judgments  ex- 
claim, '  Oh  the  depths,'  than  venture  out  upon  the 
fathomless  abyss,  from  which  I  may  never  return." 
The  present  is  a  childish  dispensation,  in  which  we 
must  be  content  to  know  little,  and  strive  to  do 
much.  During  the  remaining  half  year  of  your 
academical  residence,  spend  an  hour  each  day  in 
pulpit  composition.  I  hope  you  do  not  intend  to  be 
a  copyist,  or  one  of  Dr.  Trusler's  disciples.  Enrich 
your  sermons  to  the  utmost  with  the  ideas  of  others, 
wrought  into  your  own  mind,  but  never  transcribe. 
I  am  not  instructing  you  how  to  preach,  but  how 
to  prepare  materials,  or  I  should  say  many  things 
in  relation  to  the  ministry.  Get  a  Bible  interleaved, 
and  note  down  all  you  hear  or  read  relating  to  the 
more  important  texts.  I  began  to  do  this  at  an 
early  age,  and  my  preaching  Bible  now  contains  a 
mass  of  references  to  authors,  treatises,  commenta- 
tors, and  single  sermons,  on  most  important  ques- 
tions :  so  that  half  my  work  is  done  before  I  begin 
to  compose.  My  tools  are  at  hand,  and  I  have  no 
need  to  hunt  for  them.  You  will  find  some  useful 
hints  in  Claude's  Essay  on  the  frame- work  of  a 
sermon,  and  in  the  "  Horee  Homileticse,"  the  pro- 
duction of  the  best  skeleton-maker  in  the  world. 
Yet  remember  an  old  piece  of  advice, — "  Nullius 
addictus  in  verba  magistri."  Imitate  no  one,  but 
be  yourself.  Your  own  clothes  will  fit  you  best. 
Imitators  are  apt  to  copy  defects  as  well  as  beauties, 
and  thus  make  themselves  ridiculous  ;  use  your 
own  manner  and  style,  that  you  may   be  sincere 


MATRICULATING    AT    CAMBRIDGE.  119 

and  natural.  If  you  are  industrious  you  will  not 
hereafter  have  to  learn  when  you  are  required  to 
teaeh.  Out  of  the  remainder  of  the  day,  take  six 
hours  for  your  college  exercises;  and  try  to  be 
steady,  neat,  accurate,  and  eminent  in  everything. 
You  will  now  have  spent  eight  hours  in  close  appli- 
cation ;  never  exceed  them.  You  may  turn  to 
music,  which  is  a  great  refreshment  of  the  spirits, 
— to  conversation  or  letter- writing,  or  whatever  re- 
quires no  effort  of  mind.  Never  be  out  of  your 
room  after  ten  at  night,  and  spend  half  an  hour  in 
devotional  exercises  before  you  retire  to  bed.  I 
shall  not  repeat  what  I  have  said  on  the  subject  of 
prayer,  but  let  me  add  one  caution.  You  will 
sometimes  have  to  lament  great  failures  ;  do  not  on 
such  occasions  take  refuge  in  loose  antinomian  no- 
tions, nor  yet  give  way  to  recklessness  and  despond- 
ency ;  if  God  knows  you  are  honest,  and  striving 
in  all  things  to  glorify  him,  though  you  fall  seven 
times  a  day  he  will  raise  you  up  again.  Never 
resolve  to  do  nothing  because  you  have  not  done 
everything ;  nor  indeed  resolve  at  all,  but  cast  your 
troubles  on  Christ,  and  set  to  work  again  with  more 
diligence,  caution,  and  dependence. 

"  I  have  said  nothing  of  modern  literature  :  you 
are  already  pretty  well  acquainted  with  it,  and  if 
you  can  find  an  hour  for  lighter  reading,  which  does 
not  fatigue  you,  it  may  be  well  to  enlarge  your 
present  stock ;  but  not  to  the  neglect  of  other  things ; 
because  in  vacations  you  may  profitably  spend  some 
time  upon  the  historians  and  English  poets.  I  would 
have  vou   attend,  in  turn,   the   public  lectures  on 


120  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

anatomy,  chemistry,  &c. ; — you  will  not  be  able  to 
read  in  private  on  these  subjects,  but  you  may  get 
a  Dfeneral  knowledsfc  of  them,  which  will  both  im- 
prove  and  amuse  you.  The  divinity  lecture  I  ad- 
vise you  to  postpone,  till  you  have  finished  the 
course  of  reading  on  that  subject  which  I  have 
marked  out  for  you.  There  is  one  part  of  my 
sketch  on  which  I  have  not  been  sufficiently  ex- 
plicit ;  I  mean  the  exercise  which  is  indispensably 
necessary  to  health.  I  have  scarcely  ever  had  a 
pupil  to  whom  in  this  respect  I  did  not  seem  to  be 
another  Cassandra,  whose  predictions  no  one  would 
believe.  I  hope  you  will  be  an  exception.  To  read 
yourself  blind,  deaf,  stupid,  and  nervous,  is  really 
a  great  folly,  and  kind  of  suicide.  There  have  been 
many  sad  examples  of  complete  failure  amongst 
students,  through  neglect  of  exercise,  rather  than 
from  over  mental  exertion.  Always  take  exercise 
in  the  best  part  of  the  day,  and  at  three  periods, — 
two  half-hours  by  yourself,  and  two  hours  with 
some  agreeable  companion,  with  whom  the  conver- 
sation may  be  interesting;  kindred  pursuits  will 
furnish  you  with  abundant  materials. 

"  9.  Avoid  all  wine  parties,  or  if  circumstances 
seem  to  make  an  occasional  visit  in  this  way  neces- 
sary, firmly  adhere  to  some  rule  as  to  quantity.  I 
never  took  more  than  two  glasses,  and  this  deter- 
mination saved  me  much  trouble  and  temptation. 
Acquaintances  formed  at  these  parties  are  transi. 
tory,  and  companions  will  soon  be  dispersed,  to  be 
heard  of  no  more.  A  few  endeared  intimacies  are 
likely  to  be  more  durable  and  valuable. 


MATRICULATING    AT    CAMBRIDGE.  121 

**  10.  The  university,  which  brings  together  so 
great  a  variety  of  persons,  is  a  good  school  for  the 
study  of  character  ;  avail  yourself  of  it ;  by  the  de- 
fects of  others  learn  to  correct  your  own,  and  by 
their  virtues  improve  yourself.  You  will  seldom 
find  a  person  who  does  not  excel  you  in  something : 
lead  him  to  talk  on  his  favorite  subject,  that  yon 
may  profit  by  his  superiority. 

"11.  With  respect  to  your  vacations,  I  shall  only 
now  throw  out  one  hint ;  which  is,  that  these  must 
be  equally  busy  periods,  if  you  aspire  to  academical 
honors.  You  will,  indeed,  be  expected  to  relax  oc- 
casionally in  family  parties ;  still  you  must  unceas- 
ingly pursue  your  object,  and  attend  to  little  else. 
Get  up  your  college  subjects  for  the  next  term  ;  you 
cannot  otherwise  keep  pace  with  the  lectures. 

"  12.  Whatever  you  read,  always  keep  in  mind 
the  great  truths  of  the  Bible  ;  fact  and  observation 
will  strengthen  and  confirm  them. 

"  13.  Never  converse  about  religion,  but  in  the 
spirit  of  religion ; — be  earnest,  spiritual,  and  serious ; 
jokes,  and  tales,  and  absurd  associations,  produce 
levity  of  mind,  and  even  hypocrisy ;  be  cheerful,  but 
not  light. 

"  14.  You  may  start  at  the  amount  of  what  I 
have  stated,  but  I  know  from  experience  that  I  have 
proposed  nothing  which  may  not  be  achieved  by 
steady  perseverance.  Throw  your  whole  soul,  my 
jear ,  into  a  preparation  for  a  useful,  honor- 
able, and  serviceable  life,  in  the  most  glorious  of 
all  employments,  the  office  and  work  of  the  min- 
istry.    That  God  may  give  you  grace,  and  health, 


122  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

and  strength,  to  become  a  workman  that  needeth 
not  to  be  ashamed,  is  the  earnest  prayer  of 

"Your  affectionate  and  faithful  friend." 

I  must  apologize  to  the  reader  for  detaining  him 
so  long  from  the  more  immediate  subject  of  the 
Family  Portraiture.  My  excuse  must  be  the  hope 
that  this  letter  of  my  own  may  fall  into  the  hands 
of  some  student  of  the  University,  and  furnish  him 
with  useful  hints  to  regulate  his  conduct  and  studies. 
I  am  satisfied  that  my  sentiments  would  be  found 
in  unison  with  my  friend's,  had  he  lived  to  complete 
his  own  valuable  directions  to  his  son  Henry. 

In  surveying  the  variety  of  circumstances  and 
details  connected  with  Mr.  R.'s  plan  of  education, 
it  seems  to  me  that  two  points  may  be  added  with 
advantage. 

It  has  often  been  lamented  that  children  and 
young  people  receive  so  little  benefit  from  public 
instruction.  Mr.  Richmond  did  indeed  teach  his 
children  to  pray  and  read  the  scriptures ;  he  wrote 
a  form  of  prayer  for  the  use  of  each  of  them,  until 
they  were  able  to  approach  the  mercy-seat  with  the 
expression  of  their  own  thoughts  and  desires.  They 
had  the  benefit  of  his  family  exercises  and  conver- 
sations, and  he  kept  his  eye  on  their  behavior  at 
church ;  but  this  is  not  all  that  is  needful ;  they 
should  frequently  be  examined  as  to  what  they 
hear,  and  be  required  to  give  an  account  of  every 
sermon  ;  receiving  reproof  or  commendation  as  they 
appear  to  have  been  negligent  or  attentive. 

It  is  important  also  to  accustom  children  to  sep- 
arate a  part  of  their   pocket  money  for  charitable 


ADDITIONAL    SUGGESTIONS.  123 

purposes,  and  to  act,  in  their  sympathy  with  the 
necessitous,  on  plan  and  system.  Mr.  R.  was 
himself  hospitable  and  benevolent ;  he  contributed 
largely  from  his  slender  means,  to  the  wants  of  his 
poor  parishioners,  and  he  inculcated  on  his  family 
the  duty  of  unremitting  attention  to  distress  of 
every  kind.  But  children  should  be  trained  to  seek 
out  proper  objects,  and  learn  to  relieve  them  from 
their  own  means,  and  by  the  sacrifice  of  their  own 
gratifications.  What  portion  of  our  goods  ought  to 
be  separated  for  the  poor  is  not  determined  in  the 
scriptures ;  the  only  definite  rule  there  laid  down, 
is,  ''  According  as  God  has  prospered  him,  so  let 
every  man  give  as  he  is  disposed  in  his  heart." 
Children,  as  well  as  grown  people,  should  be  allowed 
opportunity  to  exercise  discretion,  and  evidence  the 
sincerity  of  principle :  we  cannot  prescribe  any  fixed 
amount,  which  must  vary  according  to  the  circum- 
stances of  different  persons ;  still,  however,  this  labor 
of  love  ought  to  be  regulated  by  some  definite  prin- 
ciple. 

From  the  foregoing  detail  of  Mr.  R.'s  laborious 
and  conscientious  care  of  his  family,  it  is  natural  to 
ask  what  was  the  result,  Delicacy  and  propriety 
forbid  me  to  speak  of  the  living,  though  I  might 
there  appeal  to  facts  which  confirm  the  truth  of 
that  gracious  promise,  "  Train  up  a  child  in  the  way 
in  which  he  should  go,  and  when  he  is  old  he  shall 
not  depart  from  it." 

I  shall,  however,  now  endeaver  to  fulfil  Mr.  R.'s 
own  intentions,  by  recording  the  deaths  of  his  chil- 
dren who  died  in  the  faith,  and  are  gone  to  their 
rest  and  peace  in  Christ  Jesus. 


CHAPTER   V. 

The  storm  that  wrecks  the  wintry  sky 

No  more  disturbs  their  deep  repose, 

Than  summer's  evening  latest  sigh 

That  shuts  the  rose.  JMontgomerrj . 

Samuel  Nugent  Legh,  the  eldest  son  of  Mr. 
Richmond,  was  born  at  Brading  in  the  Isle  of 
"Wight,  June  18,  1798. 

From  his  birth  to  the  hour  of  his  death  he  was 
the  child  of  many  prayers  to  God,  for  life  and  sal- 
vation through  a  crucified  Redeemer. 

*'  My  responsibilities,"  said  Mr.  R.,  "  are  greatly 
increased  by  the  birth  of  a  son,  and  I  have  need  of 
wisdom  to  preserve  this  loan  of  the  Lord,  and  train 
up  an  immortal  soul  for  heaven." 

The  views  of  a  Christian  parent  concerning  his 
offspring  are  not  bounded  by  time,  nor  his  hopes  and 
wishes  limited  to  a  present  provision.  Our  heavenly 
Father  knoweth  our  wants.  We  must  seek  first 
the  kingdom  of  God  and  his  righteousness,  and  all 
other  things  will  be  supplied  as  far  as  is  needful  to 
our  welfare. 

The  first  paper  found  amongst  Mr.  R.'s  memo- 
rada  relating  to  his  son  Nugent,  is  a  letter  addressed 
to  the  sponsors  on  the  occasion  of  his  infant's  recep- 
tion into  the  company  of  believers  by  the  sacrament 
of  baptism.  The  selection  of  these  parties  is  often 
a  delicate  and  a  difficult  duty  to  religious  parents. 


LIFE    OF    NUGENT    RICILMONU.  125 

The  usages  of  society  direct  our  view  towards  kins- 
folk and  intimate  friends,  and  the  practice  is  natural 
and  proper  when  such  can  be  found  possessing  a 
deep  sense  of  the  responsibilities  of  their  engagement. 
But  to  be  swayed  principally  by  relationship  or  in- 
terest in  this  appointment,  is  inconsistent  with 
Christian  integrity,  and  is,  in  fact  '^  honoring  man 
more  than  God,"  The  church  supposas  sponsors  to 
be  persons  of  real  piety,  a  company  of  the  faithful 
who  agree  ''  as  touching  what  they  shall  ask  of  God 
in  Christ's  name"  on  behalf  of  the  infant  They 
are  provided  as  spiritual  trustees  to  take  care  that 
the  child  be  virtuously  brought  up,  and  they  engage 
for  the  fulfilment  of  conditions,  without  vdiich,  bap- 
tism, like  the  Lord's  supper,  is  not  available  for  any 
benefit.  The  grace  of  baptism  is  not  promised  to 
unbelievers,  and  there  are  many  who  are  such  as 
to  this  act,  though  the  term  may  not  in  general  be 
applicable  to  them.  The  rite  is  regarded  by  some 
merely  as  a  compliance  with  the  forms  of  religion, 
and  by  others  as  conferring  a  title  to  covenant  priv- 
ileges, rather  than  as  communicating  any  actual 
benefit.  But  the  church  of  England,  and  I  may 
add,  all  the  reformed  churches,  define  this  sacra- 
ment to  be  an  "  outward  and  visible  sign  of  an  in- 
ward and  spiritual  grace ;  ordained  by  Christ  him- 
self, as  a  means  whereby  vv^e  receive  the  same,  and 
a  pledge  to  assure  us  thereof." 

To  maintain  that  the  right  admxinistration,  inde- 
pendent of  the  right  reception,  of  an  ordinance,  is 
effectual,  would  be  to  sanction  the  errors  of  Popery ; 
and  it  would  be  extravagant  to  assert  that  all  bap- 


126  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

tized  persons  are  regenerate,  since  the  fact  is  pal- 
pably against  sach  an  assumption.  Whether  we 
say  with  Anninius,  that  the  grace  of  baptism  has 
been  lost,  or  with  John  Calvin,  nullified^  by  the 
non-fulfilment  of  engagements ; — whether  by  the 
the  terms  regeneration,  renovation,  or  conversion  be 
meant,  the  return,  the  confirmation,  or  th§  original 
impartation  of  a  divine  influence,  (the  phrase  mat- 
ters not,)  it  is  most  evident  that  those  who  do  not 
bring  forth  the  fruits  of  the  Spirit  are  not  "  par- 
takers of  an  inward  and  spiritual  grace  ;"  and  it 
becomes  the  ministers  of  religion  to  exhort  such  per- 
sons to  pray,  and  seek  for  that  change  of  nature 
without  which  no  man  can  enter  into  the  kingdom 
of  heaven.  This  view  of  the  subject  secures  every 
practical  and  useful  purpose,  and  it  would  be  more 
advantageous  to  men's  souls  to  contend  earnestly 
for  the  faith  once  delivered  to  the  saints,  than  to 
strive  about  words  to  no  profit. 

Christian  parents  and  sponsors  would  do  well  to 
consider  whether  their  own  ignorance  and  unbelief, 
as  it  respects  this  solemn  ordinance,  may  not  have 
pro  voiced  God  to  withhold  the  blessing  promised  "to 
us  and  to  our  children."  We  know  that  under  the 
law,  the  child  was  cut  off  who  "had  broken  the 
covenant,"  only  by  the  contempt  or  neglect  of  cir- 
cumcision on  the  part  of  his  sinful  parents  ;  and 
why  may  not  the  hypocrisy  of  sponsors  in  the  per- 
formance of  a  Christian  rite  be  the  cause  of  its 
almost  general  inefficacy  ? 

It  is  an  argument  of  no  little  weight  in  favor  of 
sponsorhip,  that  this  appendage  to  Christian  baptism 


SPONSORSHIP.  127 

has  been  sanctioned  by  high  antiquity.  It  is  not  a 
novelty  of  modern  times.  It  universally  obtained 
in  the  Jewish  church,  and  was  continued  in  the 
church  of  Christ  to  the  sixteenth  century ;  its  re- 
jection, together  with  that  of  the  baptism  of  infants, 
originated  with  the  enthusiasts  of  Munster.  I  re- 
peat the  remark,  sponsorship  was  associated  with 
baptism  in  the  Jewish  church,  and  unless  in  the 
application  of  a  rite  long  practised  to  a  new  dis- 
pensation, the  concomitants  of  that  rite,  "  the  an- 
swer of  a  good  conscience,"  by  and  for  others  were 
repealed,  (and  we  have  no  proof  nor  reason  to  sup- 
pose they  were  repealed,) — the  disciples,  as  Jews, 
could  not  interpret  their  commission,  but  in  con- 
nexion with  their  early  associations  and  the  con- 
stant practice  of  their  nation. 

If  this  argument  does  not  so  fii-mly  establish  the 
use  of  sponsorship  as  to  invalidate  baptism  without 
it,  (which  neither  we  nor  the  foreign  churches  main- 
tain,) it  is  surely  sufficient  to  rescue  the  custom 
from  the  ignorant  contempt  with  which  it  is  too 
often  treated. 

It  will  be  seen  by  the  following  letter,  that  Mr. 
R.'s  sentiments  were  in  unison  with  what  has  just 
been  stated,  on  this  interesting  appendage  to  Chris- 
tian baptism. 

"To  THE  WORTHY  GoD-FATHER  AND  GoD-MOTHER  OF 

Samuel  Nugent  Legh  Richmond. 

"  Suffer  the  anxious  feelings  of  a  father  to  plead 
an  apology  for  addressing,  petitioning,  and  admon- 


128  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

ishing  you  on  a  subject  so  near,  so  dear  to  his  heart, 
as  the  future  welfare  of  an  infant  child :  I  need  not 
to  remind  you,  that  the  institution  of  sponsors  at 
the  baptism  of  every  young  child,  is  a  pious  pre- 
caution of  the  church,  intended  to  provide  for,  and 
ensure  the  religious  education  of  its  members.  With 
regard  to  the  natural  parents  of  the  child,  they  are 
considered  as  already  engaged  under  such  strict 
bonds,  both  by  nature  and  religion,  to  take  care  of 
his  spiritual  welfare,  that  the  church  does  not  sup- 
pose that  she  can  lay  them  under  any  greater ;  but 
still  makes  a  provision,  that  if,  notwithstanding 
these  obhgations,  the  parents  should  be  negligent, 
or  if  it  should  please  God  to  take  them  to  himself 
during  the  infancy  of  their  children,  there  may  yet 
be  others  who  stand  solemnly  pledged  before  God 
and  his  church,  to  see  that  such  infants  are  not 
without  instruction  in  consequence  of  such  careless- 
ness or  untimely  death  of  their  parents.  Hence  it 
follows,  that  a  charge  of  the  most  serious  and  im- 
portant nature  is  undertaken  by  the  spiritual  pa- 
rents or  sponsors,  who  are  therefore  called.  Fathers 
and  Mothers  in  C;Jod  ;  and  in  all  matters  which  con- 
cern the  godly  instruction,  Christian  principles,  and 
progress  in  piety  of  their  God-children,  they  do  most 
assuredly  and  unequivocally  become  answerable  for 
their  faith  and  practice,  so  far  as  human  vigilance 
and  endeavors  are  concerned.  True  it  is,  if  they 
have  the  satisfaction  of  observing  that  the  natural 
parents  zealously,  piously,  and  unremittingly  super- 
intend the  Christian  education  of  their  infant  charge, 
n:iuch  of  their  own  attentions  arc  rendered  unncces- 


LETTER    TO    SPONSORS.  129 

sary  ; — still,  however,  their  own  responsibility  re- 
mains  unaltered  by  any  circumstance,  from  the 
hour  of  baptism  to  the  years  of  discretion  and  un- 
derstanding, and  it  is  incumbent  on  them  to  see  and 
know  that  all  things  are  provided,  and  nothing  omit- 
ted which  is  conducive  to  the  soul's  health  of  their 
children  in  God. 

*' Having  thus  stated  my  ideas  of  the  indispens- 
able duties  of  God-fathers  and  God-mothers  in  gen- 
eral, I  am  naturally  led  to  make  the  immediate 
application  to  the  present  case.  I  hope  and  trust 
that  myself  and  my  dear  Mary  are  too  deeply  im- 
pressed with  a  sense  of  our  duty,  (exclusive  of  pa- 
rental affection,)  to  omit  anything  which  may  tend 
to  the  Christian  instruction  of  our  young  ones.  If, 
therefore,  it  should  please  the  Almighty  to  spare  us 
life  and  health,  I  shall  look  forward  with  increasing 
pleasure  to  the  provspect  of  our  child's  being  so  edu- 
cated, that  even  those  who  stand  solemnly  pledged 
on  the  subject,  shall  have  little  else  to  do  than  to 
observe,  examine,  and  approve.  At  least,  I  pray, 
that  under  God's  blessing  on  our  endeavors,  it  may 
be  so  ; — but,  should  our  infant  be  deprived  of  paren- 
tal solicitude  and  attention  through  death,  or  de- 
bility of  mind  or  body,  on  you,  my  dear  and  much 
respected  friends,  it  will  rest  to  provide  all  that  in 
your  name  has  been  vowed,  promised,  and  professed 
for  him.  In  such  an  event,  I  entreat  that  no  pains 
may  be  spared  to  train  up  my  little  infant  in  the  love 
and  fear  of  God,  in  the  faith  of  the  Redeemer,  and 
grateful  love  to  him,  and  with  a  firm  reliance  on 
the  assistance  of  the  Holy  Spirit.     Let  the  Scrip- 


130  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

tures,  and  not  the  common-place  morality  of  the 
times,  be  made  the  groundwork  of  his  conduct,  his 
principles,  and  his  future  hopes;  teach  him  that  true 
charity  is  the  offspring  of  Christian  faith,  and  that 
heavenly  hope  can  alone  spring  from  their  united 
dominion  over  his  heart.  With  such  a  foundation 
he  will  learn  to  be  thanlcful  and  contented  in  every 
condition  of  life,  and  under  every  dispen.sation  of 
providence.  Let  him  be  so  fortified  with  the  true 
armor  of  the  Christian,  that  the  shafts  of  that  hor- 
rid and  specious  monster  infidelity  may  ever  be  re- 
pelled with  humble  confidence  and  just  indignation. 

''  Teach  him  to  know  that  although  the  gospel 
gives  no  encouragement,  no,  even  the  least  hope, 
to  morality  without  faith,  yet  that  faith  without 
works  is  dead. 

"  That,  notwithstanding  our  most  punctual  obe- 
dience to  the  commandments  of  tlie  law,  we  are 
still  unprofitable  servants  ;  (the  merits  of  the  Sav- 
iour, not  our  own  merits,  rendering  us  acceptable 
to  God ;)  yet  that  the  fruits  of  the  Spirit  are  to  be 
seen  in  practical  activity  in  promoting  the  good  of 
others,  as  well  as  in  the  purification  of  ourselves. 
Let  this  and  every  other  Christian  principle  be  en- 
grafted on  his  heart,  gradually,  and  in  due  progress, 
with  the  advancement  of  his  understanding ;  so  shall 
your  weighty  duties  be  fulfilled,  and  my  heart  be 
at  ease. 

"  Should  the  boy's  life  and  my  own  be  spared,  "it 
will  be  my  delight  to  endeavor  to  make  him  what 
I  consider  the  first  of  characters, — a  real  Christian. 

"  With  respect  to  all  other  parts  of  education,  it 


REMARKS    ON    THE    MINISTRY.  131 

is  foreign  to  the  purpose  of  this  address  ;  which  is 
solely  made  on  the  subject  of  the  baptismal  vow, 
accompanied  by  a  fond  father's  comments,  explana- 
tions and  wishes.  My  present  fears  are  not  lest 
he  should  be  poor  and  unlearned  in  what  the  world 
calls  wisdom  and  accomplish ixient ;  all  must  pros- 
per in  the  end,  if  he  be  but  rich  in  good  works,  and 
wise  unto  salvation.  I  conclude,  therefore,  with  a 
blessing  upon  you  all ;  and  if  this  epistle  be  of  a 
more  serious  (and  to  you  I  will  not  add  tedious) 
description  than  you  are  accustomed  to  peruse,  the 
best  apology  to  be  made  for  it  is,  that  it  comes 
from  a  parish  priest,  an  affectionate  father,  and 
"  Your  faithful  brother-in-law  and  nephew, 

It  was  Mr.  R.'s  earnest  desire,  that  his  first-born 
child  should  be  a  minister  of  the  Lord,  and  a  ser- 
vant of  the  sanctuary  ;  his  son's  course  of  education 
was  conducted  with  this  view,  both  while  he  con- 
tinued at  Brading,  and  on  his  subsequent  removal 
to  Turvey. 

There  was  nothing  censurable  in  Mr.  R.'s  wishes 
for  his  son's  introduction  to  the  ministry  ;  but  con- 
sidering the  peculiar  character  and  requirements  of 
a  minister  of  the  gospel,  it  may  be  doubted  whether 
it  would  not  be  more  consistent  that  the  designation 
of  a  younof  person  to  that  sacred  profession,  should 
follow,  rather  than  precede,  a  discovery  of  fitness 
for  it.  lam  not  here  speaking  of  the  awful  prof- 
anation of  making  a  boy  a  clergyman,  because  he 
shows  an  incapacity  for  other  situations,  or  with  a 


132  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

view  to  some  worldly  advancement,  or  for  the  sake 
of  literary  respectability  and  enjoyment ;  such  mo- 
tives and  practices  cannot  be  too  strongly  depre- 
cated :  is  it  not  to  bring  the  lame,  and  the  blind 
into  the  temple,  and  to  oiler  money  for  the  gift  of 
God?  in  such,  God  can  have  no  pleasure,  neither 
will  He  accept  an  offering  at  their  hand.  Mai.  i.  2, 
12.  But  I  am  adverting  to  an  error,  not  uncom- 
mon even  among  religious  parents,  of  selecting  the 
future  occupation  of  the  ministry  for  their  children 
on  the  general  grounds  of  correct  conduct  and 
amiable  dispositions.  God  has  taken  into  his  own 
hands  the  work  of  the  sanctuary  ;  when  He  calls 
and  separates  by  his  Spirit,  we  may  co-operate  with 
His  purposes,  and  supply  materials  and  tools  for 
His  workmen  ;  but  it  is  seldom  desirable  to  antici- 
pate the  divine  will  on  this  head,  or  forget  that  there 
must  be,  not  only  a  real  conversion  of  the  heart  to 
God,  but  a  peculiar  aptness  for  the  work,  to  justify 
an  entrance  in  the  sacred  callin"-. 

Such  was  Mr.  R.'s  judgment  in  after  life  ;  and 
his  tender  mind  sometimes  reverted  to  his  disap- 
pointment in  poor  Nugent's  delinquencies,  as  a  re- 
buke for  his  presumption. 

It  appears  that  Mr.  R.  early  adopted  the  practice 
of  corresponding  with  his  family  ;  and  I  present  to 
the  reader  a  letter  to  Nugent,  as  a  pleasing  speci- 
men of  his  happy  manner  of  adressing  his  children. 

"  My  dear  little  boy, 

"  You  cannot  think  how  glad  I  was  to  see  your 
letter  ;  so  glad  that  it  made  me  weep  :  if  you  knew 


LETTER    TO    NUGEPs'T.  133 

how  dearly  I  love  you,  1  am  sure  you  would  dearly 
love  me  ;  and  if  you  knew  how  dearly  God  loves 
you,  you  would  love  Him  also.  Never  forget  God, 
for  he  is  always  thinking  about  you  ;  do  you  not 
see  hovv"  good  he  is  to  you,  in  giving  you  a  papa 
and  mamma,  and  sisters,  and  friends,  and  a  house 
to  live  in,  and  food,  and  so  many  other  good  things. 

"I  preached  a  sermon  last  Sunday  to  some  hun- 
dreds of  little  children,  and  you  can  hardly  think 
how  well  they  behaved,  and  how  silently  and  closely 
they  attended  to  what  they  heard.  Many  of  them 
when  they  returned  home,  wrote  down  what  they 
heard  from  me  at  cliurch  :  when  will  you  do  so,  my 
dear  Nugent  ?     I  hope  you  get  your  lesson  well  for 

Mr.  D ;  how  kind  he  is  to  teach  you  !     I  hope 

you  pray  for  me  every  day ;  I  often  pray  for  you, 
and  God  will  hear  both  you  and  me,  if  we  pray 
with  our  whole  hearts.  When  you  have  read  this 
letter,  you  must  go  and  kiss  M.  and  F.  and  H.  and 
tell  them  I  bid  you  do  so  for  me,  because  I  am  far 
away,  and  cannot  give  them  myself  a  proof  of  my 
affection  for  them. 

"  My  Nugent,  you  are  the  eldest ;  if  you  are  a 
good  child,  they  may  follow  your  example,  and  if 
you  are  a  bad  boy,  it  will  teach  them  to  be  sinful ; 
and  that  will  make  God  very  angry,  and  me  very 
unhappy.  You  are  now  every  day  growing  older, 
and  you  ought  to  grow  vfiser  and  better,  and  then 
you  will  be  a  comfort  to  us  all,  and  I  shall  rejoice 
and  praise.  I  wish  you  to-morrow  morning  to  read 
the  10th  chapter  of  St.  Mark,  and  you  will  see  how 
Jesus  Christ  loved  little  children,  and  how  he  took 


134  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

them  np  in  his  arms  and  blessed  them.  I  hope  he 
will  bless  you,  and  then  you  will  go  to  Heaven 
when  you  die  ;  but  without  a  blessing  from  Christ 
you  never  can  go  there.  I  trust  I  shall  see  you 
again  soon.  You  must  pray  to  God  to  bring  me 
back  in  health  and  safety.  1  have  written  to  you 
as  long  a  letter  as  perhaps  you  will  like  to  read  : 
one  thing  only  I  will  add,  that 

"  I  am  your  true  loving  papa, 

"L.  R." 

For  some  years  Nugent  was  educated  at  home  ; 
being  seldom  absent  from  his  father's  eye  :  com- 
panions he  had  none,  for  Mr.  R.  was  afraid  of 
bringing  his  son  in  contact  with  any  associations 
out  of  his  own  family.  It  may  be  doubted  how  far 
it  was  wise  to  confine  a  boy  to  his  own  resources 
for  amusement ;  for  at  this  time  Mr.  R.  had  not 
provided  the  philosophical  apparatus,  by  which  he 
afterwards  supplied  his  children  with  full  employ- 
ment in  their  leisure  hours :  certainly  the  future 
transition  from  these  restraints  to  the  almost  un- 
bounded freedom  of  association  at  school,  proved 
injurious  to  Nugent. 

As  Mr.  R.'s  public  engagements  increased,  he 
found  it  necessarry  to  remove  his  son  to  other  super- 
intendence ;  and  he  placed  him  under  the  care  of 

:  in  this  situation  Nugent  attached  himself  to 

a  companion  of  bad  principles  and  incorrect  con- 
duct, who  in  the  end  succeeded  in  perverting  the 
victim  of  his  confidence.  It  became  necessary  to 
remove  the  bad  example  from  the  family,  and  at 


NUpENT    SENT    TO    SEA,  135 

last,  though  with  great  reluctance  and  bitter  dis- 
appointment, Mr.  R.  consented  to  the  advice  of  his 
friends,  and  placed  his  son  in  a  merchant  vessel. 
All  hopes  of  the  ministry  were  abandoned  ;  and 
Nsigent,  now  a  wanderer  in  the  wide  world,  had  to 
make  his  own  way  in  life.  Many  affecting  circum- 
stances relating  to  this  exile  from  his  father's  house, 
have  been  already  detailed  in  Mr.  R.'s  own  memoirs, 
and  I  am  obliged  to  forego  their  introduction  in  the 
present  narrative. 

The  repetition  of  such  details,  are  not,  however, 
essential  to  my  purpose  ;  which  is  not  so  much  to 
gratify  curiosity,  as  to  show  the  great  advantage  of 
a  religious  education,  amidst  the  most  discouraging 
and  distressing  disappointments ;  and  that  the  prom- 
ises of  eventual  success,  under  all  the  oppositions 
of  a  fallen  nature,  and  the  worst  temptations  to  evil, 
will  ultimately  reward  the  faithful  and  conscien- 
tious discharge  of  our  duty  towards  our  children. 

Mr.  R.  gave  his  son,  on  his  departure  from  this 
country,  a  Bible,  and  a  paper  of  admonitions  and 
instructions  for  his  conduct.  Amidst  all  his  irregu- 
larities, Nugent  discovered  a  grateful  and  affection- 
ate temper.  His  errors  were  evidently  those  of  a 
thoughtless  and  yielding  disposition,  rather  than  of 
a  deep-rooted  and  vicious  propensity :  he  sincerely 
loved  his  father,  and  he  preserved  with  a  kind  of 
religious  veneration,  these  testimonies  of  regard  ; 
never  losing  them,  though  twice  shipwrecked,  and 
though  all  the  other  little  property  that  he  had  re- 
alized was  then  swept  away. 

He  was  evidently  deeply  impressed  by  his  parents' 


136  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

bright  example,  and  he  kept  up  a  regular  cjoiespond- 
ence  with  them.  Mr.  R.'s  letters  are  lost;  but  some 
extracts  from  those  of  his  son  will  serve  stronglv  to 
illustrate  the  good  effects  of  past  instructions.  It 
never  should  be  forgotten  that  there  is  a  moral  in- 
fluence in  Christian  principles,  which  keeps  evil 
within  certain  bounds,  even  when  those  principles 
have  not  penetrated  the  heart ;  and  bad  as  uncon- 
verted persons  often  appear,  amidst  all  the  pains 
taken  with  them,  they  would  probably  be  much 
worse  without  the  unseen  restraint  which  thus  op- 
erates within  them. 

A  lodgment  of  truth  once  made  in  the  mind, 
cannot  afterwards  be  wholly  eradicated.  Conviction 
often  returns,  and  at  last,  as  in  the  present  instance, 
produces  a  saving  change  of  heart  and  life.  Nugent 
was  not  long  on  the  mighty  deep  before  he  acknowl- 
edged the  propriety  of  his  removal  from  home,  and 
he  began  deeply  to  repent  of  the  follies  which  ren- 
dered it  necessary. 

''  My  dear  Father  and  Mother, 

"I  am  now,  as  it  may  be  said,  at  the  other  end 
of  the  world,  but  still  I  often  think  of  you  and  Tur- 
vey ;  I  often  reflect  on  my  past  conduct,  and  bitterly 
bewail  my  folly  ;  if  I  had  not  done  what  I  ought 
not  to  have  done,  I  might  now  be  resting  comfort- 
ably under  your  roof,  instead  of  having  to  bear  very 
great  hardships  by  night  and  by  day  :  but  I  will 
not  complain  of  my  chastisement,  and  have  indeed 
far  greater  comforts  than  I  deserve. 

"  Papa,  I  am  far  away,  but  I  often  think  of  you, 


LEAVES    THE    SHIP.  137 

and  of  my  dear  mother,  to  whom  I  have  occasioned 
bitter  sorrows.  Alas  I  I  fear  my  offences  can  never 
be  forgiven. 

''  I  am  satisfied  you  acted  wisely  in  sending  me 
from  home,  sweet  home  I  -The  maxims  and  rules 
you  gave  me,  I  cherish  and  keep  by  me. 

"  Oh !  how  I  look  back  on  the  hopes  and  fears, 
alarms  and  anxieties  of  my  dear  parents ;  if  God 
permits  me  ever  to  see  them  again,  I  hope  it  w411 
be  under  different  circumstances  and  feelings.  May 
He  preserve  me  amidst  the  winds  and  waves. 
'^  I  am  still  your  affectionate  son, 

"N.  R." 

There  was  somethino-  so  ingenuous  and  relentins: 

in  this  his  first  letter,  that  Mr.  R.  anticipated  the 

return  of  his  son  from   the  voyage  with  all  that 

strength  of  affection  which  issued  from  his  loving, 

*  tender  heart  on  all  occasions.     He  lonsred  to  em- 

a 

brace  the  poor  wanderer,  and  mingle  his  tears  with 
those  of  his  child,  saying:  "  This  my  son  was  dead 
and  is  alive  again,  was  lost  and  is  found  :"  but  these 
fond  hopes  were  disappointed.  Nugent  left  the  ves- 
sel in  which  he  sailed,  in  opposition  to  the  remon- 
stances  of  the  Captain,  to  whom  he  was  entrusted 
with  du-ections  to  bring  him  back  to  England.  Mr. 
R.  had  only  intended  to  try  the  effect  of  absence 
and  employment,  in  reclaiming  his  son,  and  not  to 
fix  him  forever  in  the  perilous  occupation  of  a  sea- 
faring life.  The  Arniston  proceeded  on  her  voyage 
without  him,  and  he  had  soon  reason  to  regret  his 
indiscretion  (for  such  it  was,  though  God  meant  it 


138  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

for  good),  when  he  found  himself  cast  on  the  world 
without  means  of  livelihood,  without  friends,  or  even 
an  acquaintance  who  could  advise  and  serve  him : 
a  youth  of  only  seventeen  years  of  age,  and  separa- 
ted from  all  who  felt  any  interest  in  his  welfare. 
In  this  desolate  and  almost  hopeless  state,  he  ad- 
dressed the  following  letter  to  the  senior  chaplain 
of  Ceylon. 

"  Reverend  Sir, 

"  There  are  many  occasions  in  life  when  it  is 
easier  to  write  than  to  speak,  particularly  when  we 
are  obliged  to  speak  of  ourselves.  Your  known 
condescension  and  Ivindness  encourages  me  to  hope 
you  will  pardon  my  present  intrusion. 

"  It  is  proper  I  should  aoknowledge  that  my  own 
thoughtlessness  and  inconsiderate  conduct,  and  a 
neglect  of  the  instructions  of  an  excellent  father, 
have  been  the  cause  of  my  present  misfortunes.  I* 
ran  away  from  school,  and  spent  my  time  in  dissi- 
pation with  the  young  farmers  of  my  neighborhood  ; 
which  gave  my  poor  father  great  uneasiness  and 
many  a  miserable  hour  ;  and  finding  me  unwilling 
to  settle  to  any  useful  employment,  he  sent  me  to 
sea  as  a  last  resource,  in  hopes  that  time  and  re- 
flection, and  experience  of  the  world,  might  change 
my  habits,  and  lead  me  to  a  proper  sense  of  my 
errors.  With  the  reluctant  consent  of  both  my 
parents,  I  came  out  in  the  Arniston,  under  the 
charge  of  Captain  Simpson,  whose  uniform  kindness 
to  me  I  gratefully  remember.  He  refused  to  give 
jne   permission   to  stay   in   India,  and  I  withdrew 


OCCURRENCES    IN    INDIA.  139 

from  his  ship  with  a  view  to  profit  by  the  opportu- 
nity, and  to  see  Calcutta  and  other  parts  and  places 
before  I  returned  to  England.  In  this  expectation 
I  have  been  disappointed,  and  knowing  the  dislike 
of  my  parents  to  my  present  occupation,  I  have 
abandoned  further  thoughts  of  continuing  in  it,  at 
least  till  I  can  learn  their  pleasure  as  to  my  future 
destiny.  I  humbly  throw  myself  on  your  kindness, 
and  entreat  you  to  take  me  under  your  protection 
and  guidance  :  for  which  T  hope  to  testify  the  grati- 
tude of  my  heart  by  conducting  myself  with  dili- 
gence and  propriety.  I  have  the  honor  to  remain, 
with  the  greatest  respect, 

"  Your  obedient  servant, 

''N.  R." 

Self-will  is  a  principal  source  of  mischief  to 
young  people ;  submission  and  deference  to  age 
and  experience,  a  prime  virtue  to  be  cultivated  by 
them.  To  follow  his  own  inclination  and  leave  the 
Arniston,  was  a  culpable  thoughtlessness ;  nor  can 
it  be  justified  or  excused,  though  the  consequences 
were  advantageous.  There  is,  however,  much  to 
approve  in  Nugent's  frank  and  open  avowal  of  his 
errors  ;  he  might  have  concealed  them  ;  a  more 
subtle  mind  would  have  been  tempted  to  do  so ; 
but  simplicity  is  always  the  best  poUcy ;  it  disarms 
hostility,  and  disposes  men  to  overlook  the  past, 
by  the  security  which  seems  to  be  given  of  future 
good  conduct;  it  relieves  the  parties  from  a  train 
of  evils  and  embarrassments,  and  temptations  to 
new  offences,  which  will  meet  them  at  every  step. 


140  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

To  an  honorable  mind  it  is  ever  painful  to  appear 
in  false  colors :  the  fear  of  disclosure  and  conse- 
quent loss,  perhaps,  of  our  friends,  will  always  fill 
us  with  restlessness  and  apprehension.  An  oQender 
had  better  trust  God  with  his  case,  than  turn  for 
deliverance  to  the  wretched  expedients  which  his 
own  pride  and  folly  might  suggest.  This  appeal 
to  a  stranger,  "  I  have  been  an  otlendiiig  wanderer, 
and  therefore  take  me  under  your  protection,"  may 
seem  to  some  to  be  little  consistent  with  prudence  ; 
but  Nugent  could  not  have  acted  more  wisely,  if 
his  letter  had  been  written  under  the  influence  of 
selfish  calculation,  instead  of  having  been,  as  it  ap- 
pears to  me,  the  result  of  integrity. 

It  is  also  evident,  from  the  last  two  letters,  that 
Mr.  Richmond's  care  and  instructions  were  not  even 
now  without  their  use:  there  was  clearly  an  in- 
fluence in  operation,  and  a  turning  to  right  princi- 
ples and  feelings  on  the  part  of  Nugent,  which,  if 
too  weak  to  stem  the  torrent  of  natural  corruption, 
was  doing  much  to  control  evil,  and  prepare  his 
mind  for  its  subjugation.  Indeed,  the  full  eflect  of 
religious  education  is  seldom  seen,  until  a  young 
person  has  had  an  opportunity  of  making  an  exper- 
iment on  the  principles  which  he  has  been  taught : 
however  pleasing  the  piety  of  children,  it  can  never 
be  relied  on  :  it  must  first  stand  the  test  of  solitary 
exposure  to  adverse  circumstances.  The  family  is 
the  nursery  of  tender  plants,  of  whoso  growth  and 
fruit  we  can  determine  nothing  till  they  are  trans- 
planted into  other  soils;  but  in  all  cases  a  consci- 
entious and  diligent  cultivation  of  a  child's  mind, 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  PARENTS.  141 

accompanied  by  a  consistent  example, — without 
which  instruction  too  often  injures  rather  than  im- 
proves,— will  be  like  the  seed  sown,  which  Jiiay  not 
appear  for  a  season,  but  will  in  the  end  spring  up 
and  reward  our  labor. 

I  have  already  noticed  that  Mr.  R.  constantly 
corresponded  with  his  son :  he  did  more, — Nugent 
was  in  his  daily  thoughts,  and  he  earnestly  and 
continually  carried  him  to  a  throne  of  grace  ;  and  I 
cannot  but  ascribe  to  the  faith  and  prayer  of  the 
affectionate  parent,  the  remarkable  escape  of  the 
child.  The  Arniston,  having  sailed  without  him, 
was  wrecked  near  Cape  Lagullus,  with  the  loss  of 
the  whole  crevr.  Three  hundred  and  fifty  persons 
perished,  and  thus  Nugent's  error  was  overruled  by 
a  gracious  God  to  the  preservation  of  his  life.  Such 
interpositions  of  providence  may  be  treated  with 
indifference  and  contempt  by  men  of  the  world. 
Mr.  R.  bowed  the  knee,  and  thankfully  praised  God," 
*'  I  have  prayed  to  Thee,  O  Father,  in  secret,  and 
Thou  hast  rewarded  me  openly." 

Soon  after  Nugent  left  the  Arniston,  he  obtained 
the  situation  of  third  officer  in  the  brig  Kandian. 
Of  this  appointment  he  informed  his  father,  adding, 

"  And  now,  my  dear  parents,  while  you  are  living 
quietly  at  home,  I  am  tossed  about  the  stormy  ocean 
in  all  weathers,  and  never  knowing  that  I  am  safe 
a  moment.  I  hope  Wilberforce  will  take  warning 
from  my  sad  wanderings,  or  he  will  never  be  happy ; 
receive  my  kind  love,  dear  father  and  mother ;  the 
same  to  my  brothers  and  sisters.     I  hope  God  will 


142  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

take  care  of  me,  forgive  and  convert  me  ;  He  is  the 
best  friend ;  do  not  cease  to  pray  for  me,  and  re- 
member me  still,  for  I  am 

"  Yom'  affectionate  Son, 

''N.  R." 

From  some  unknown  cause,  the  letters  from 
England,  though  sent  at  regular  periods,  did  not 
reach  their  destination ;  and  Nugent  suffered  much 
anxiety  at  not  hearing  from  his  family  :  he  writes, 

"  Ever  dear  and  affectionate  Parents, 

'•  ^  *  ^  It  is  now  two  years  since  I  left 
England,  and  I  have  neither  heard  from  nor  of  you, 
except  once  from  a  missionary,  who  told  me  he  had 
seen  you  in  Yorkshire  a  few  months  after  I  sailed, 
and  that  you  were  quite  well.  He  is  a  very  good 
man,  and  I  have  been  to  hear  him  several  times. 

I  have  also  attended  Mr. ,  another  missionary, 

and  a  valuable  servant  of  God  ;  indeed  they  all  ap- 
pear to  be  of  one  heart  and  one  spirit.     Would  to 

God  I  were  like  them !     Mr. has  been  very 

kind  to  me ;  but  he  is  a  bad  man,  and  altogether 
unfit  to  be  a  clergyman.  I  shall  not  mention  his 
faults  for  it  seems  ungrateful  to  dwell  on  a  benefac- 
tor's misconduct,  or  indeed  on  the  misconduct  of 
any  one.  I  have  been  greatly  distressed  at  hearing 
nothing  of  my  poor  mother,  who  has  shed  so  many 
tears  on  my  account,  nor  of  my  dear  brothers  and 
sisters,  though  I  have  written  so  many  letters  to 
them. 

"  So  the  Arniston  was  lost  I    Oh  !  merciful  escape ! 


LETTERS    TO    HIS    PARENTS.  143 

"  I  am  sorry  to  say,  my  new  captain  is  a  wild, 
extravagant,  and  dissipated  man,  always  giving 
balls  and  routs  on  board  or  on  shore.  *-  #  ^  ^ 
Dancing  and  singing  to  a  late  hour  is  a  sad  way  of 
spending  Saturday  night.  It  shocks  me  to  say, 
my  dear  father,  I  have  only  been  to  church  about 
twelve  times  since  I  left  England ;  indeed,  sailors 
scarcely  know  what  church  is,  except  on  board  men 
of  war,  where  there  is  a  chaplain  ;  nevertheless,  if 
we  cannot  go  to  church,  we  seldom  work  on  a  Sun- 
day as  on  a  week-day  ;  so  that  I  have  time  to  read 
the  Bible  and  pray.  You  gave  me  a  Bible  when  I 
left  you,  and  I  have  it  still,  and  hope  always  to 
have  it.  O  that  I  knew  how  to  make  a  right  use 
of  it.  Be  assured,  my  dear  father,  I  neither  dance 
nor  gamble ;  although  there  is  much  of  both  here, 
and  I  should  please  more  if  I  did  as  others  ;  I  thank 
God  I  know  not  how  to  do  either,  and  I  am  sure  I 
have  no  wish  to  be  wise  in  such  things.  I  have 
encountered  many  unpleasant  remarks  on  this  ac- 
count. Pray  for  me,  pray  for  your  poor  Nugent ; 
think  when  you  are  in  bed  and  by  your  fire-side,  I 
am  toiling  by  day  and  watching  by  night,  tossed 
about  in  gales  of  wind,  scared  by  storms  of  thunder, 
lightning,  and  rain,  ignorant  of  my  fate  for  a  single 
hour.  Oh  !  a  sailor's  life  is  wicked,  miserable,  and 
deplorable ;  but  this  is  all  the  fruit  of  my  sin,  and 
I  justly  deserve  my  chastisement.  Farewell — that 
you  may  long  live,  and  my  mother,  and  my  sisters, 
and  my  brothers,  to  enjoy  every  blessing,  temporal 
and  eternal,  is  the  ardent  wish 

"Of  your  affectionate  son,  N.  R." 


144  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

A  few  months  after,  be  wrote  again  to  bis  motber  : 

"  My  dearest  and  most  affectionate  Mother, 

"  I  have  just  heard  that  the  ship  Alexander  is 
arrived  at  Columbo,  by  which  I  hope  to  receive 
letters  from  home.  I  am  on  the  other  side  of  Cey- 
lon, and  I  fear  it  may  be  a  fortnight  or  three  weeks 
before  I  can  get  them  here,  and  we  expect  to  sail 
before  that  time.  I  am  all  mieasiness  ;  and  still 
more  anxious  when  I  think  what  will  be  said  in 
them.  Sometimes  I  am  pleased,  then  I  am  grieved 
and  fear  ;  uncertain  of  their  contents,  still  I  long  to 
read  them.  Thanks  to  an  all-merciful  God,  I  have 
succeeded  well  in  India,  esjjecially  when  I  consider 
I  had  no  friend  to  guide  me  ;  but  my  success  gives 
me  little  satisfaction,  when  1  reflect  on  the  wounded 
feelings  of  an  aftectionate  mother.  I  now,  indeed, 
see  and  feel  my  folly  ;  if  I  had  taken  yonr  advice,  I 
should  never  have  suH'ered  so  many  hardships,  but 
this  is  not  my  greatest  trial,  my  sins  uill  all  rise  up 
against  me  in  the  hour  of  de;\th  and  at  the  day  of 
judgment.  Oh  !  that  I  could  feel  this  consideration 
as  I  ought ;  my  insensibility  distresses  me.  May 
the  Lord  help  me. 

"  Nov.  2.  No  letter.  I  am  full  of  uneasiness  and 
anxiety.  This  is  Sunday  and  the  vessel  is  under 
my  command.  My  superior  officers  are  gone  on 
shore,  I  fear  for  no  good,  they  think  very  little  of 
worship,  officers  or  men.  The  men  are  great  gam- 
blers. I  went  among  them  this  evening,  and  found 
them  at  hazard  :  I  threw  the  dice  overboard,  though 
probably  my  life  is  in  danger  for  what  1  have  done, 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  PARENTS.  145 

for  the  dice  belonged  to  a  Spaniard,  who  thinks 
nothing  of  using  his  stiletto;  but  I  have  done  what 
I  considered  my  duty,  and  I  must  trust  God  with 
the  consequences.  The  Portuguese  sailors  when 
provoked  are  as  revengeful  as  the  Spaniards :  the 
other  night  I  nearly  lost  my  life  from  a  party  of 
them  ;  there  had  been  a  quarrel  between  some  Por- 
tuguese and  English  sailors ;  I  was  walking  alone 
on  shore,  when  fifteen  of  the  former  came  up  and 
asked  me  to  what  nation  I  belonged,  and  on  my 
replying,  'To  the  English,'  they  lifted  up  their 
cudgels  to  level  me  with  the  ground.  I  raised  my 
arms  to  defend  my  head,  when  they  discovered  my 
uniform  and  buttons,  and  cried  out  '  Don't  strike 
him,'  for  they  perceived  I  was  not  a  co[nmon  sailor, 
or  I  certainl}^  should  have  been  killed  on  the  spot. 
This  was  another  wonderful  escape.  God  is  very 
good  to  me,  and  I  long  to  mal:e  a  suitable  return  to 
him. 

"Nov.  4.  This  day  my  letters  are  arrived,  but 
thev  are  a  series  of  sorrows  to  me.  When  I  read 
the  first,  how  I  felt !  I  could  scarcely  hold  it  in  my 
hand  :  I  subbed  and  wept.  Oh  I  my  poor  mother, 
I  have  occasioned  your  illness  and  endangered  your 
life.  I  do  not  know  how  to  go  on  writing;  I  can- 
not put  two  words  comfortably  together.  I  know, 
my  dear  mother,  you  prayed  for  me  in  that  trying 
hour.     *     '^'     *     ^'     ^     * 

"  Mr.  B ,  who  is  returning  to  Europe,  has 

behaved  very  kindly  to  me  ever  since  I  first  knew 
him,  which  is  now  more  than  a  year ;  he  will  tell 
you  all  about  me.     1  am  conscious  of  not  being 

7 


146  FAMILY    PORTRAFTURK. 

what  you  would  wish  me  to  be,  but  I  hope  by  God^s 
grace  to  be  made  altogether  such  as  you  desire.  I 
know  you  pray  for  me  continually,  and  I  trust  that 
God  will  change  my  heart  before  T  die.  Farewell, 
my  dear  mother,  I  shall  write  whenever  opportu- 
nity serves;  do  you  write  constantly  to  me.  Re- 
member me  most  kindly  to  my  father,  brothers,  and 
sisters.  That  they  may  long  live  in  the  enjoyment 
of  every  blessing,  is  the  earnest  prayer  for  them  all  of 
*'  Your  affectionate  N." 

I  have  ever  remq.rked  that  no  case  is  hopeless 
where  there  is  strong  affection.  An  unimpassioned 
soul  is  seldom  touched  by  any  tiling  beyond  the 
range  of  its  own  selfish  gratifications,  and  usually 
presents  a  stubborn  resistance  to  considerations 
which  affect  only  or  chiefly  the  welfare  of  others ; 
but  an  affectionate  temper,  amidst  many  sinful 
wanderings,  is  still  capable  of  impression. 

The  letters  of  Nugent  discover  a  very  feeling 
and  grateful  spirit,  a  sense  of  obligation,  and  a  self- 
condemnation  for  past  misconduct.  They  display  a 
conflict  between  duty  and  irregular  inclination,  and, 
in  some  instances,  a  firmness  of  principle  far  above 
mere  nature.  They  could  not  fail  to  inspire  a 
pleasing  hope,  that  though  an  enemy  had  sown 
tares  in  the  field,  the  wheat  \vould  ultimately  over- 
top them  and  grow  to  maturity.  Mr.  Richmond's 
heart  was  full  of  joy,  and  his  faith  leaned  on  the 
promises  of  God  with  firmer  dependence  ;  he  was 
encouraged  to  more  vigorous  perseverance  in  inter- 
ceding for  his  much  loved  child  ;  he  had  carried  his 


TESTIMONY    OF    A     AIISSIONARY.  147 

sorrows  to  God,  and  lie  now  praised  him  for  his 
faithfuhiess  in  alleviating  them.  About  this  time 
the  following  letter  was  received  from  a  mfssionary 
at  Columbo,  which  bears  an  honorable  testimony 
to  Nugent's  improved  oondact.  It  will  be  read 
with  interest  by  those  who  can  sympathize  with  a 
father's  sufferings,  or  understand  the  joy  which  wel- 
comes a  returning  penitent. 

"  Dear  and  Reverend  Sir, 

"  I  have  no  doubt  you  will  excuse  the  liberty  a 
stranger  takes,  who  knows  you  only  by  name,  in 
writing  to  you  a  few  lines,  which  cannot  fail  to  in- 
terest both  you  and  your  family.  I  have  a  father's 
heart,  and  know  well  the  feelings  with  which  you 
will  receive  the  information  I  send  you  respecting 
Mr.  Nugent  Richmond,  your  once  disobedient  son. 
It  would  be  most  pleasing  to  me  to  say  that  he  is  a 
humble  penitent,  seeking  life  and  salvation  through 
the  boundless  merits  of  a  crucified  Redeemer  ;  but 
though  I  fear  to  go  thus  far,  I  am  warranted  to  bear 
testimony  to  a  real  change  in  him  in  many  respects. 
He  is  become  quite  steady  in  his  conduct,  and  is 
very  attentive  to  the  duties  of  his  profession,  and 
you  have  not  the  least  cause  for  anxiety  with  re- 
gard to  his  temporal  welfare ;  nor  is  he  by  any  means 
careless  and  unconcerned  about  the  things  which 
make  for  his  eternal  peace.  He  is  much  more 
anxious  than  he  used  to  be  for  religious  society,  and 
often  attends  our  evening  meetings.  This  morning 
he  breakfasted  with  us,  and  I  endeavored  to  supply 
your  place  in  my  poor  way,  by  interrogating  him 


148  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

in  the  most  serious  manner,  respecting  the  state  of 
his  soul ;  and  when  I  found  him  unprepared  to  an- 
swer me  in  the  manner  I  wished,  I  urged  his  still 
closer  attention  to  religion,  by  motives  addressed  to 
his  hopes  and  fears.  I  read  to  him  the  fifty-first 
Psalm,  and  he  listened  with  deep  interest,  and 
seemed  to  feel  every  word.  I  prayed  for  him  in  my 
family  worship,  and  enjoyed  a  more  than  usual  free- 
dom in  spreading  his  case  before  tlie  Lord.  When  we 
arose  from  our  knees,  I  believe  there  were  few  dry 
eyes.  On  the  whole,  I  think  we  have  reason  to  hope 
the  best  respecting  your  son  ;  I  advised  him  to  read 
some  passages  in  the  Bible  every  day,  with  special 
application  to  his  own  case,  and  to  turn  it  into 
prayer  for  himself  I  have  heard  many  acknowledge, 
that  they  have  received  great  benefit  in  praying  in 
God's  own  Avords.  May  poor  Nugent  be  another 
instance.  I  cannot  close  the  hasty  letter,  without 
informing  you  of  the  good  effect  of  the  Dairyman's 
Daughter  in  Ceylon.  A  person  of  whose  conver- 
sion I  do  not  doubt,  and  who  has  joined  our  little 
church,  ascribes  his  change  of  heart  to  God  and  you. 

"Begging  you  will  read  with  candor  what  I  have 
written  with  difficulty, 

"  I  am,  with  respectful  and  affectionate  regard, 
"Yours,  J.  C." 

The  caution  with  which  this  correspondent  speaks 
of  conversion,  renders  his  testimony  the  more  valu- 
able ;  yet  it  appears  to  me  very  evident,  that  Nu- 
gent was  making  progress  towards  a  complete  sur- 
render of  his  heart  to  God,  and  that  his  mind  was 


HIS    RELIGIOUS    STATE.  149 

at  this  time  under  the  influence  of  real  principle. 
He  might  be  less  acquainted  than  others  with  ex- 
perimental religion,  and  have  much  to  learn  as  to 
the  cause  of  his  wanderings,  and  the  entire  corrup- 
tion of  his  heart ;  defects  of  this  kind  he  laments 
himself,  and  in  all  his  letters  describes  his  case 
rather  as  that  of  one  who  seeks  and  longs  to  be  a 
true  convert,  than  of  one  who  has  attained  a  saving 
change ;  still,  in  a  long  series  of  correspondence 
before  me,  I  remark  in  him  a  gradual,  and  very- 
real  approximation  to  all  that  is  correct  in  opinion 
and  conduct ;  he  never  reflects  on  any  one  but  him- 
self;  he  labors  to  guard  his  brothers  against  sin,  by 
the  knowledge  of  its  effects  and  consequences  in 
his  own  history  ;  he  bears  an  affectionate  testimony 
to  the  conscientious  consistency  of  his  parents ;  he 
wishes  for  an  opportunity  to  make  some  suitable 
returns  for  their  kindness ;  he  connects  every  event 
with  the  disposition  of  divine  providence  ;  he  secures 
the  respect  and  countenance  of  every  one  by  his 
steady  and  correct  conduct;  he  courts  the  society 
of  good  people ;  he  firmly  resists  evil,  though  at- 
tended with  danger  to  himself,  and  on  all  occasions 
expresses  himself  with  so  much  atiection  and  vene- 
ration for  true  religion,  as  on  the  ^vhole  satisfies  my 
own  mind,  that  even  if  he  had  now  been  removed 
from  the  world,  his  family  would  have  had  no  rea- 
son to  have  sorrowed  as  those  without  hope.  There 
is  not,  however,  in  these  letters  such  a  degree  of 
interest  to  persons  unacquainted  with  him,  as  to 
warrant  their  introduction.  A  sufficient  number 
relating  to  this  period  are  already  before  the  reader, 
8 


150  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

to  show  the  value  of  early  instruction  under  every 
circumstance. 

The  young  sailor  quitted  the  Kenyon,  which  was 
sold  by  the  government,  and  went  on  board  the 
Oracabessa,  from  which  vessel  he  wrote  to  his  father 
the  following  aflecting  account  of  the  state  of  sla- 
very at  the  Mauritius  ; — a  letter  full  of  correct  feel- 
ing, and  still  more  satisfactory  evidence  of  right 
conduct. 

''  My  dear  Father, 

''We  are  on  the  point  of  sailing  for  the  Mauri- 
tius. *  *  *  I  know  that  you  will  be  pleased 
to  hear  that  I  am  taking  out  some  Bibles,  Testa- 
ments,  and   Tracts  in  different  languages,   which 

were  sent  to  me  by  my  friend  Lieutenant  B , 

to  distribute  and  try  what  good  I  could  do  there. 
How  is  it  there  are  no  missionaries  at  the  Mauri- 
tius ?  an  island  containing  thirty  thousand  souls; 
ten  thousand  whites,  and  twenty  thousand  men  of 
color.  I  can  safely  assure  you  there  is  no  part  of 
the  world  where  the  British  flag  is  flying,  which  is 
half  so  ignorant,  or  in  such  a  dreadful  state  of  dark- 
ness :  there  is,  indeed,  scarcely  any  religion  at  all 
there ;  what  there  is,  is  Roman  Catholic ;  it  is  true 
there  is  an  English  church,  and  perhaps  from  twenty 
to  thirty  persons  in  it  once  a  day,  and  the  clergy- 
man ;  *  *  *^  bQt  the  island  from  one  end 
to  the  other,  exhibits  every  species  of  vice,  without 
control  or  check  of  any  kind.  Slavery,  as  you 
know,  is  the  cause  of  everything  that  is  bad  :  never 
were  its  frightful  effects  more  clearly  shown  than 


HIS    VIEWS    OiN     THE    SLAVE    TRADE.  151 

in  this  place ;  they  are  far  worse  than  even  in  our 
West  India  plantations.  I  have  been  an  eye-wit- 
ness to  scenes  altogether  shocking  to  humanity  ; 
the  heaviest  punishments  are  inflicted  for  faults, 
which  in  England  would  receive  a  trifling  fine,  or 
a  short  imprisonment.  Masters  have  chopped  off 
the  ears  of  their  slaves,  and  in  some  instances,  have 
literally  starved  them  to  death.  Neither  is  the 
slave-trade  extinct  in  this  part  of  the  world,  but  is 
still  carried  on  to  a  great  extent.  There  may  be  a 
stricter  watch  against  the  slave  vessels,  but  never- 
theless they  are  loaded  every  month,  and  I  have 
known  the  slaves  to  have  been  taken  into  harbor  in 
empty  water  casks  to  elude  detection. 

''  Now,  my  father,  take  your  atlas  and  look  at 
the  position  of  Mauritius,  Bambour,  and  Madagas- 
car, with  the  African  main.  Slaves  are  to  be  pro- 
cured at  either  of  the  last  places  for  about  thirty 
dollars  a-liead.  If  taken  to  Bourbon,  or  the  Mau- 
ritius, they  fetch  from  three  to  four  hundred  dol- 
lars. Is  not  this  an  irresistible  temptation  to  a 
slave-trader,  when  he  is  sure  of  his  price  if  he  can 
escape  the  vigilance  of  the  naval  officers.  If  you 
look  at  the  position  of  these  places,  you  may  judge 
of  the  ease  of  carrying  on  this  traffic,  when  I  tell 
you  that  there  is  only  one  man  of  war  in  the  har- 
bor of  Port  Louis  to  search  vessels  which  come  in ; 
and  no  one  cruising  about  this  coast,  though  it  is 
well  known  that  there  are  five  Spanish  ships,  two 
Portuguese,  and  one  English,  employed  in  the  trade. 
One  of  these  vessels  was  lately  wrecked  there  :  of 
the  crew,  one  sailor  only  was  saved,  who  is  now  on 


152  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

board  our  ship.  He  has  frequently  conversed  with 
me,  and  I  am  persuaded  his  information  is  correct. 

*'  Now  can  nothing  be  done  to  restrain  the  cruel 
treatment  of  these  poor  creatures  ?  On  landing  at 
Port  Louis,  you  would  see  one  of  them  in  irons, 
and  as  you  advanced,  another  flogged  most  unmer- 
cifully, without  distinction  of  sex,  and  in  general 
no  clothing  allowed  ;  some  kind-hearted  masters 
give  a  dollar  a  year  for  clothes.  There  is,  I  believe, 
a  code  of  laws,  but  they  are  never  enforced.  I  have 
myself  seen  slaves  unable  to  stand,  from  the  sever- 
ity of  their  punishment;  thirty  in  a  rov/,  on  whose 
backs  g-ashes,  not  lashes,  might  be  observed  ;  pieces 
fairly  cut  out,  and  in  some  instances  an  eye  forced 
out,  and  there  is  no  redress  :  nor  are  they  fed  prop- 
erly. I  had  forty-five  of  them  working  under  me, 
for  whom  their  owner  received  a  dollar  a  day  per 
head  :  they  worked  from  sun-rise  to  sun-set,  and 
what  was  their  food  ?  For  breakfast  a  cake,  made 
of  a  kind  of  potato,  weighing  three  ounces  :  for  din- 
ner half  a  pound  of  boiled  rice,  with  one  spoonful  of 
assinge,  or  an  equal  quantity  of  horse-beans ;  for 
supper  the  same  as  at  breakfcist,  with  a  little  water 
to  drink. 

I  will  tell  you  an  instance  which  I  laiow  to  be  true, 
amidst  many  others  which  I  have  heard  from  men 
of  veracity.  A  woman  flogged  her  own  sister,  who 
was  unfortunately  her  slave  also,  till  she  fainted. 
She  then  twisted  her  arms  till  the  poor  creature 
nearly  expired.  She  then  let  her  recover,  and  singed 
her  flesh  with  a  hot  iron  •  -^  ^  ^^  * 

the  sufferer  never  complained  ;  indeed  if  she  had,  it 


LETTERS    TO    HIS    PARENTS. 


1.58 


would  have  been  worse  for  her  in  the  end  ;  the  truth 
is,  there  is  a  combination  among  the  people  of  the 
whole  island  to  resist  the  law,  and  support  each  other 
in  their  acts  of  oppression.  My  object  in  mention- 
ing these  things  to  you  is  that  you  should  first  make 
inquiry  to  satisfy  yourself  of  the  truth  of  the  facts, 
and  then  try  to  get  something  done  for  these 
wretched  beings.  If  such  cruelties  be  passed  by 
with  indifference  in  the  harbor,  what  unobserved 
abominations  may  be  expected  in  the  interior  of  the 
island  I 

''It  is  said  that  the  climate  requires  no  clothing, 
but  this  is  false  :  the  nights  are  very  cold,  and  the 
season  sometimes  severe.  I  have  even  slept  under 
several  blankets,  and  been  cold.  How  many  poor 
souls  have  not  one !  ^  *  =^  *  ^ 

''  Kindest  love  to  all,  and 

"Believe  me,  my  dear  Father, 

''  Your  affectionate  Son, 

"N.  R." 

From  the  Bay  of  All-Saints,  he  touches  again  on 
this  horrid  traffic  : — "  I  have  made  many  observa- 
tions on  the  country  and  people  here,  and  particu- 
larly on  the  slave-trade ;  all  of  which  will  confirm 
what  I  have  already  told  you  respecting  it.  This 
port  is  full  of  slave  ships,  and  I  am  lying  close  to 
one  which  has  just  landed  seven  hundred,  men,  wo- 
men, and  children.  What  a  pity  this  nation  should 
persist  in  this  infamous  traffic !  I  admit  the  slaves 
are  better  used  than  in  some  other  places,  but  still 


154  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

they  are  exposed  to  the  caprices  and  unrestrained 
passions  of  corrupt  nature. 

"  I  have  been  distributing  tracts  and  Bibles,  which 
some  have  rejected  with  scorn,  and  others  received 
with  thanks.  I  assure  you  I  have  spent  more  time 
in  this  Avay,  than  in  attending  to  my  worldly  interest, 
and  so  I  ought  :  for  I  am  indebted  to  Him  for  all 
my  mercies,  in  whose  cause  I  am  so  laboring  ;  and 
if  only  one  Bible  finds  its  way  to  the  heart,  what 
shall  I  think  of  my  task  in  eternity  !  Wherever  I 
go  I  will  labor  faithfully  in  this  good  work,  to  the 
utmost  of  my  power,  and  particularly  in  the  Isle  of 
France,  for  that  island  is  grievously  neglected  as  to 
all  spiritual  instruction. 

"  I  have  conversed  with  two  Catholic  priests. 
They  appear  to  me  pious  men,  though  they  refuse  to 
sanction  the  distribution  of  the  scriptures  among  the 
laity.     I  confess  I  am  not  able  to  argue  with  them." 

Upon  the  chief  subjects  of  these  letters,  we  may 
again  remark  the  happy  recollections  of  his  early 
years.  From  his  excellent  father  he  had  imbibed 
an  aversion  to  an  iniquitous  traliic,  and  a  sense  of 
its  wretched  effects  on  the  well-being,  both  of  the 
oppressor  and  the  oppressed  ;  from  him  he  had  learnt 
also  to  value  the  Holy  Scriptures  as  God's  best  gift 
to  a  ruined  world,  and  had  received  associations  of 
sentiment  and  affection  which  no  subsequent  wan- 
derings of  sinful  inclination,  no  exposure  to  the 
temptations  of  scenes  full  of  danger,  and  abounding 
with  iniquity,  could  ever  obliterate.  The  principles 
of  his  education  restrained  him  in  his  worst  moments, 
and  they  obtained  a  permanent  ascendancy  with  the 


LETTERS    TO    HIS    PARENTS.  155 

return  of  better  feelings  produced  by  the  salutary 
correction  of  his  misfortunes.  In  his  case,  the  ex- 
periment of  a  voyage  was  successful,  though  it  may 
be  doubted  whether  in  general  any  other  result  can 
reasonably  be  expected  from  it  than  a  confirmation 
of  a  young  man's  evil  propensities.  It  seemed  good 
to  a  wise  and  gracious  God  to  exercise  this  mis- 
guided, but  affectionate  youth,  with  a  succession  of 
disappointments,  mingled  with  merciful  preserva- 
tions, and  to  train  him  in  the  school  of  adversity,  to 
show  the  good  effect  of  a  pious  father's  instructions, 
and  the  rich  boon  of  a  father's  blessing  and  prayers. 

His  shipwrecks — his  losses — -and  his  severe  trial 
in  the  death  of  an  amiable  young  woman  to  whom 
he  was  engaged  in  marriage,  have  been  detailed  by 
another  hand  ;  and  I  have  only  to  add  a  few  extracts 
from  numerous  letters  in  my  possession,  illustrative 
of  his  progress  in  unfeigned  piety. 

''The  happiest  day  I  could  see  in  this  world, 
would  be  that  on  which  I  might  mingle  myself  once 
more  with  you  all.  Oh  !  with  what  joy  should  I 
return  to  you,  my  dear  father,  and  my  dear  mother, 
to  receive  your  forgiveness  and  welcome  home 
again.  God  only  knows  whether  we  shall  ever 
meet  on  this  side  eternity  ;  there  seem  to  be  more 
difficulties  and  obstacles  in  my  way  every  year. 

"  The  next  happy  day  w^ould  be  when  the  Lord, 
who  has  been  ever  kind  and  merciful  to  me,  should 
entirely  wean  me  from  this  wicked  world  and  its 
temptations ;  then  should  I  be  as  happy  as  I  wish 
to  be." 

"My  Bible,   which    is   everything,  is   the  only 


156  FAIMILY    PORTRAITURE.  , 

means  of  grace  I  have  :  by  reading  it,  with  some 
other  good  books,  tracts,  and  sermons,  I  hope  to 
keep  close  to  the  fear  of  God. 

"  There  are  two  clergyiTien  here,  but,  alas  I — I 
must  say  no  evil,  when  I  can  say  no  good  of  them. 
I  wish  some  missionaries,  truly  pious  men,  were 
sent  out  to  us ;  I  assure  you  we  have  great  need 
of  spiritual  instructors.  A  good  man  preached  in  a 
brig  close  to  us  yesterday  ;  and  I  hope  next  Sunday 
to  hoist  the  flag  of  Zion  at  our  mainmast  head." 

"  My  dear  father,  you  have  now  four  sons,  will 
you  spare  me  one  of  them  ?  it  will  be  a  great  charge, 
but  not  the  first  of  the  kind.  I  have  had  a  young- 
ster three  years  under  my  care,  and  it  will  be 
some  security  to  you  for  my  proper  conduct,  when 

I  tell  you  that  Lieutenant  B- is  going  to  put 

his  younger  son  under  my  management.  He  is  a 
pious  man,  and  his  confidence  in  me  may  serve  to 
show  that  I  am  not  altogether  undeserving  of  yours." 

"  I  have  never  kept  my  birth-day  but  once  since 
I  left  England.  I  sat  and  felt  so  melancholy  instead 
of  being  joyful ;  and  with  good  reason,  when  I.  look 
back  on  years  that  are  past." 

^'  We  sail  for  the  Mauritius  to-morrow,  and  I  have 
humbly  besought  the  Lord,  who  has  ever  been 
merciful  to  me,  to  protect  and  preserve  us  all. 

"Oh,  my  good  father  !  no  one  can  conceive  the 
horror  of  a  shipwreck  but  those  who  'have  experi- 
enced it.  iMany,  many  heartfelt  thanks  to  that 
Providence  which  has  again  rescued  me  from  a 
watery  grave.  I  had  made  a  little  fortune,  and 
was  returning  home  with  presents  for  my  family, 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  PARENTS.  157 

and  with  three  beautiful  shawls  for  my  dear  mother, 
but  all  is  lost,  except  one  trunk,  in  which  was  my 
Bible,  and  the  Dairyman's  Daughter.  Thus  all 
my  hopes  and  expectations  have  been  frustrated. 
Yet  I  believe  these  things  are  for  my  good.  I  must 
begin  the  ^vorld  afresh,  and  I  hope  to  do  so  in  more 
senses  than  one.  Tell  my  dear  mother  not  to  grieve 
for  my  misfortunes,  God  ]\novrs  wliat  is  best  for  us." 

"  While  the  ship  was  drivijig,  and  it  blew"  a  per- 
fect hurricane,  I  went  down  to  my  cabin  to  pray  to 
the  Lord  for  his  assistance  and  protection  in  this 
trying  hour.  In  the  midst  of  prayer,  and  while  the 
tears  were  in  my  eyes,  the  ship  struck  on  a  sand, 
with  a  shock  which  brought  many  to  the  ground  ;  I 
staggered  a  little,  though  on  my  knees,  and  my 
little  L.  B — —  was  thrown  off  a  chest  on  which  he 
lay  close  to  me.  Everything  was  now  confusion. 
In  the  mean  time  I  again  went  below  and  prayed 
with  heart  and  soul  to  Almighty  God  to  save  us  ; — 
and  my  prayers  were  answered,  ^  ^  for  a  certain 
something — a  kind  of  comfortable  thought  seemed 
to  rest  with  me  and  say,  '  Thy  life  shall  be  spared.' 
Not  all  the  shocks,  seas,  or  winds  could  afterwards 
make  me  fear  or  think  the  contrary.  Surely  there 
never  was  a  greater  proof  than  this,  that  the  Lord 
is  ahvays  w-ith  us.  It  anim.ated  and  comforted  me, 
and  made  me  work  and  exert  myself  with  redoubled 
vigor,  though  a  great  part  of  the  night  it  rained 
hard,  accompanied  v/ith  thunder  and  lightning. 

"  Oh  !  how  thankful  I  ought  to  be  to  Almighty 
God  for  his  many  mercies  repeatedly  shown  to  me  ; 
— indeed  I  trust  I  know  that  suitable  returns  are 

8* 


158  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

expected  from  me.  *  =^  =*  When  I  look  back 
on  the  last  twenty-five  years,  I  am  lost  in  wonder 
and  astonishment.  My  dear  father,  do  not  forget 
the  eighteenth  of  July. 

"  One  thing  grieved  me  in  the  shipwreck  more 
than  all — the  loss  of  some  valuable  presents  for  my 
family  ;  but  this  is  God's  will ;  it  is  the  Lord's  do- 
ing, and  all  is  for  the  best. 

"  I  am  returning  home  for  the  re-establishment 
of  my  health,  which  has  suflered  severely  from  ex- 
posure to  hardships  by  night  and  day  :  but  the  hap- 
piness of  seeing  you  all  once  more  will  not  a  little 
contribute  to  my  restoration.  My  lieart  beats,  and 
my  head  tarns  giddy  at  the  thought  of  this  meeting  ; 
it  will  be  both  a  pleasing  and  a  painful  one  to  me. 

"  Do  not  expect  me  before  the  end  of  July  or  the 
beginning  of  August.  I  shall,  of  course  write  to 
my  father  on  my  arrival,  that  I  may  not  take  you 
by  surprise.  And  oh  !  my  dear  mother,  pray  for  a 
safe  voyage  for  mo,  and  a  meeting  to  us  all.  I  have 
had  many  trials,  afflictions,  and  crosses  for  the  last 
ten  months,  but  I  feel  the  loss  of  her  to  whom  I 
was  engaged  most  of  all,  jjcrhaps  too  much.  Still 
in  all  these  things  there  is  one  great  consolation ; 
they  are  sent  by  him  who  careth  for  me.  I  believe 
they  arc  all  ordered  in  wisdom  and  mercy,  though 
you  and  I  may  not  be  able  to  interpret  their  mean- 
ing. If  we  could  see  the  end,  as  we  shall  do  by 
and  by,  I  am  quite  satisfied  we  should  gratefully 
acknowledge  that  they  were  intended  for  good,  and 
this  comfortable  assurance,  through  him  who  loved 
us  better  than  we  love  ourselves,  will,  I  trust,  be 


HIS  EXPECTED  RETURN.  159 

my  support,  and  inspire  me  with  •  cheerful  resigna- 
tion and  renewed  confidence  in  God.  I  have  many 
thoughts  about  eternity  ;  though,  alas  !  the  wicked 
one  strives  to  banish  them  from  my  mind. 

"  Your  truly  valuable  letters,  my  dear  mother, 
discover  so  much  affection  and  kindness  towards 
me,  that  I  know  not  how  to  express  my  joy  and 
thankfulness ;  they  often  draw  tears  from  my  eyes, 
and  are  the  dearer  to  me  the  more  I  read  them. 
I  have  a  great  deal  to  say,  to  propose,  and  to 
request,  and  hardly  know  whether  to  begin  now, 
or  wait  till  I  have  the  joy  of  seeing  my  dearest 
parents.  What  a  meeting  will  this  be  !  I  seem  to 
dread  it,  though  it  would  be  a  grief  inexpressible 
were  it  not  to  take  place.  #  ^  *  ^  Pray  for 
an  unfortunate  wanderer,  and  may  God  answer 
your  prayers  to  my  present  and  eternal  good." 

The  expected  return  of  Nugent  was  an  event 
which  warmed  every  heart  in  Turvey  Rectory  with 
the  most  anxious  and  affectionate  sympathy.  The 
whole  family  was  eager,  either  to  welcome  a  rela- 
tive whom  they  scarcely  knew  but  by  report,  or  to 
renew  an  affection  which  time  and  distance  had  not 
effaced,  but  rather  strengthened. 

Mrs.  Richmond  fitted  up,  partly  with  her  own 
hand,  a  room  for  her  son's  reception,  and  arranged 
everything  to  testify  her  regard  for  her  returning 
child,  and  banish  every  painful  recollection  from  his 
mind  ;  but  after  the  lapse  of  a  few  months,  his  death, 
instead  of  his  arrival,  was  announced. 

His  constitution   had   been  greatly  impaired  by 


160  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

unhealthy  climates,  and  the  successions  of  hardships 
to  which  he  had  been  exposed,  until  both  his  health 
and  spirits  finally  sunk  under  the  last  and  greatest 

trial,  the  death  of  Miss .     After  this  event  he 

resolved  on  returning  immediately  to  England. 

Previous  to  the  voyage  he  had  an  attack  of  fever, 
and  embarked  in  very  weak  health.  The  ship  met 
with  a  heavy  gale,  which  induced  him  to  exert  him- 
self beyond  his  strength ;  he  had  a  relapse  of  fever, 
became  very  ill,  and  was  occasionally  delirious. 
Immediate  danger  was  not  apprehended,  but  one 
night  he  went  to  bed  about  twelve  o'clock,  and  was 
found  dead  in  his  cabin  the  next  morning,  to  the 
surprise  and  grief  of  all  on  board,  by  whom  he  was 
universally  beloved  and  respected. 

Alone  in  the  hour  of  his  departure  from  sin  and 
sorrow ;  yet  not  alone,  for  his  God,  and  the  God  of 
his  father  was  with  him,  and  gave  hiin  rest  from 
the  days  of  adversity.* 

An  ivory  box  containing  a  few  jewels  and  gold 
chains,  which  he  had  intended  as  presents  for  his 
brothers  and  sisters,  was  discovered  in  his  pocket 
after  his  decease.  On  the  inside  of  the  cover,  the 
following  lines  were  written  in  his  own  hand  in 
pencil,  apparently  a  short  time  before  his  death. 

*  The  chief  part  of  his  property  was  lost  with  the  Oracabessa, 
but  he  left  out  of  the  scanty  store  reserved  from  three  shipwrecks, 
a  hundred  rupees  to  general  charitable  purposes  ;  £bQ  to  the  Bible 
Society,  i;50  to  the  Church  Missionary  Society,  £bQ  to  the  Society 
for  Promoting  Christian  Knowledge,  and  i;50  to  the  Religious 
Tract  Society.  The  selection  of  these  charitable  institutions  was 
probably  designed  to  express  affection  and  respect  for  his  father's 
preferences,  as  well  as  regard  on  his  own  part  for  the  truths  of 
religion. 


HIS    DEATH.  ,  161 

Where  vice  has  held  its  empire  long, 

'Twill  not  endure  the  least  control : 

None  but  a  power  divinely  strong, 

Can  turn  the  current  of  the  soul. 

Great  God,  I  own  thy  power  divine, 

That  works  to  change  this  heart  of  mine ; 

I  would  be  formed  anew,  and  bless  ■ 

The  wonders  of  redeeming  grace. 

While  little  was  known  of  his  dying  moments, 
the  most  satisfactory  accounts  of  his  living  hours 
were  received  by  Mr.  Richmond  from  many  persons 
who  for  some  years  had  observed  Nugent's  exem- 
plary conduct. 

A  melancholy  feeling  steals  over  the  spirits,  as 
we  follow  this  first-born  son  of  an  excellent  man 
through  each  succeeding  calamity  of  his  life,  to  a 
solitary  death. 

We  must  adore  in  silence,  confidently  resting  on 
the  wisdom  and  goodness  of  Him  whom  clouds  and 
darkness  surround,  while  "  righteousness  and  truth 
are  the  habitations  of  his  seat." 

The  history  before  us  exhibits  in  the  clearest 
light  (and  this  is  my  chief  purpose  in  writing  it)  the 
inestimable  blessing  of  a  pious  parent,  and  the  value 
of  a  religious  education  under  all  possible  contin- 
gencies. "  In  the  morning  sow  thy  seed,  and  in 
the  evening  withold  not  thine  hand,  for  thou 
knowest  not  whether  shall  prosper,  either  this  or 
that,  or  whether  they  both  shall  be  alike  good." 
(Eccles.  xi.  6.) 


CHAPTEll   VI. 

"  And  tliercfore  wert  thou  bred  to  vii'luous  knowledge, 
And  wisdom  early  planted  in  thy  soul."'  Rowe. 

WiLBERFORCE  was  tliG  sccond  son  of  his  father, 
and  was  born  in  Turvey  Rectory,  Aug.  20,  1807. 

Mr.  R.  intended  to  have  added  another  tract  to 
the  annals  of  pious  young  people.  He  had  prepared 
materials  for  this  purpose,  and  even  chosen  that  title 
for  his  narrative,  which  I  have  adopted  for  the  pres- 
ent tribute  of  affection  to  his  memory.  It  is  deeply 
to  be  regretted,  that  he  did  not  live  to  execute  his 
design.  His  talents  for  religious  biography  was 
peculiar,  perhaps  unequalled.  He  drew  his  sketches 
from  real  life  with  a  scrupulous  attention  to  truth, 
and  never  failed  to  tonch  the  heart.  But  such  was 
the  poignancy  of  his  feelings  in  the  recollection  of 
past  scenes,  that  he  was  often  compelled  to  lay 
aside  the  attempt,  and  wait  for  a  season  of  greater 
composure.  Meanwhile  his  own  increasing  infirm- 
ities, and  his  final  removal  from  earthly  scenes  and 
earthly  sorrows,  deprived  the  Christian  world  of  a 
most  instructive  memoir,  which,  though  complete 
in  the  outline,  and  comprising  all  be  meant  to 
say  of  his  son  from  the  cradle  to  the  grave,  is  so 
imperfect  in  its  detail,  that  no  further  use  can  be 
made  of  his  materials,  than  to  guide  me  in  my  fee- 


LIFE    OF    WILBEHFORCE.  163 

ble  delineation  of  the  character  of  this  interesting 
boy. 

Soon  after  his  birth  he  was  received  into  the 
Christian  church  by  the  rite  of  baptism,  when  his 
father  called  him  Wilberforce,  connecting  with  that 
name  the  most  important  event  in  his  own  life,  his 
conversion  to  God  by  the  perusal  of  the  "  Practical 
View  of  Christianity."* 

While  an  infant,  he  was  taken  by  his  parents  on 
a  visit  to .  Certain  associations  impart  an  in- 
terest to  circumstances  apparently  trivial,  while  they 
are  fondly  regarded  as  presages  of  future  eminence, 
and  often  stimulate  to  the  diligent  employment  of 
means  for  its  attainment.  Of  this  character. is  the 
following  anecdote. 

"I  cannot  forget  a  circumstance  which  occurred 
in  his  infancy  ;  his  mother  and  myself  were  on  a 
visit  at  a  friend's  house.  A  large  family  were  as- 
sembled at  morning  prayers,  and  amongst  them  was 
our  little  boy  in  his  nurse's  arms.  An  aged  and 
venerable  minister  was  conducting  the  family  wor- 
ship. In  the  midst  of  his  prayer,  the  child  began 
to  cry.  The  good  man  paused,  and  beckoned  the 
servant  to  give  him  the  infant.  He  took  him  in  his 
arms,  and  held  him  for  several  minutes,  during  which 
he  offered  up  most  affecting  petitions  on  his  behalf, 
praying  earnestly,  and  in  a  manner  that  touched  all 
our  hearts,  that  it  might  please  God  to  bless  him 
for  time  and  eternity ;  that  if  his  life  were  spared, 
he  might  be  a  blessing  to  his  parents  and  the  church 
of  God,  and  finally  have  an  inheritance  with  the 

*  See  Memoir  of  Mr.  Richmond,  p.  26. 


164  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

saints  in  light.  He  then  returned  the  child,  now 
pacified,  to  the  nurse's  arms,  and  resumed  the  gen- 
eral subject  of  his  prayer,  which  had  been  thus  in- 
terrupted. There  was  an  affecting  singularity  in 
the  transaction,  which  much  interested  us  at  the 
time,  and  now  that  I  am  engaged  in  the  retrospective 
view  of  what  passed  from  the  cradle  to  the  grave 
of  my  beloved  son,  it  recurs  to  my  recollection  with 
peculiar  emotions  of  heart.  The  venerable  man  of 
God  is  long  since  gone  to  liis  rest,  but  his  prayer 
was  recorded  in  heaven,  and  the  Lord  in  mercy  has 
given  it  a  gracious  answer." 

When  little  more  than  two  years  old  he  fell  from 
a  window,  on  the  pavement,  and  though  he  recov- 
ered from  the  accident,  he  was  lame  ever  afterwards, 
and  the  natural  delicacy  of  his  constitution  was  prob- 
ably increased  by  the  injury  he  received  at  that  time. 
This  circumstance  would  scarcely  have  deserved  a 
serious  mention,  if  it  did  not  seem  to  be  a  linlv  in 
the  chain  of  events  which  contribute  towards  the 
formation  of  his  character,  by  rendering  him  unfit 
for  boyish  sports,  and  compelling  him  to  seek  amuse- 
ment in  higher  occupations. "^^ 

His  resource  was  the  Museum,  and  the  experi- 
ments made  by  his  father's  philosophical  apparatus. 
In  these  he  toolc  a  principal  share,  and  resorted  to 
them  when  his  other  studies  did  not  require  his  at- 
tention.   Electricity,  pneumatics,  mineralogy,  chem- 

*  To  treat  little  things  with  contempt  is  no  mark  of  superior  in- 
telligence. Their  potency  is  acknowledged  by  all  thoughtful  ob- 
servers of  the  course  of  events,  whether  in  the  sparrow  that  falls,  or 
the  single  hair  which  is  numbered. 


CHILDHOOD  OF  AVILBERFORCE.         165 

istry,  and  music,  in  Avhich  he  was  no  mean  profi- 
cient, occupied  his  leisure  hours.  He  delighted  in 
science  of  every  kind,  but  especially  in  the  mathe- 
matics. The  indubitable  verity  of  a  demonstration 
suited  his  turn  of  mind,  and  had  God  spared  his  life, 
he  AYould  probably  have  distinguished  himself  at  the 
university.  Such  was  the  opinion  of  his  tutor,  who, 
in  a  letter  of  condolence  to  his  father  after  his  death, 
speaivs  of  him  as  a  boy  of  no  common  intelligence 
and  attainment. 

"I  marked  the  superior  endowments  of  his  mind 
in  the  first  hours  of  our  intercourse,  and  was  con- 
firmed in  my  opinion  by  each  succeeding  year.  He 
caught  an  idea  quickly,  never  seemed  to  forget  it, 
for  his  memory  was  remarkably  strong  and  reten- 
tive, and  he  made  more  rapid  and  solid  attainments 
than  any  other  boy  placed  under  my  care.  At  a 
very  early  period  he  read  Euclid,  and  surprised  me 
with  his  acute  and  sensible  observations  on  the 
character  of  pure  mathematics.  He  appeared  de- 
lighted to  master  a  difficult  problem,  and  before  he 
was  twelve  years  of  age,  had  exceeded  the  advance 
of  many  men  of  two  3'ears'  standing  at  the  Uni- 
versity. 

"  I  observed  an  equal  neatness  and  success  in  his 
classical  exercises  and  translations.  But  I  was  still 
more  astonished  at  his  discrimination  and  knowledge 
of  character.  This  must  have  arisen  from  his  seek- 
ing the  conversation  of  his  superiors.  He  had  a 
thinking  mind,  and  a  habit  of  going  to  the  bottom 
of  a  subject.  He  was  not  without  his  prejudices, 
and  sometimes  expressed  a  contempt  for  authority, 


166  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

and  assumed  an  air  of  confidence  in  his  opinion, 
which  needed  checking,  though  I  never  found  him 
obstinate  or  averse  to  re-consider  his  own  decisions, 
and  but  seldom  in  any  material  error. 

''  He  had  a  playful  temper,  and  with  great  good 
humor  would  join  his  brothers  in  a  gambol ;  but 
when  alone,  he  was  more  like  a  little  man  than  a 
child, — he  was,  in  short,  an  amusing  and  rational 
companion." 

The  writer  of  the  above  extract  left  Turvey  when 
his  pupil  was  about  twelve  years  of  age.  Wilber- 
force  expressed  great  regret  at  his  removal,  and  ad- 
dressed his  tutor  in  a  letter  equally  creditable  to 
both  parties.  I  lay  it  before  the  reader,  to  show  the 
affectionate  and  grateful  temper  of  the  one,  and  to 
bear  an  honorable  testimony  to  the  conscientious 
and  valuable  services  of  the  other. 

"  My  dear  Sir, 

"  I  hope  you  will  not  suppose  that  I  am  insensible 
to  the  value  of  your  kind  and  affectionate  care  of 
me.  I  know  nothing  wounds  more  deeply  than  neg- 
lect and  ingratitude,  and  I  hope  I  have  never,  amidst 
many  other  errors,  fallen  into  this  offence.  If  I 
have  appeared  ungrateful,  I  sincerely  ask  pardon. 
I  fear  I  have  often  behaved  disrespectfully,  and  "  done 
many  things  which  I  ought  not  to  have  done."  But 
I  assure  you,  I  never  gave  offence  without  pain  to 
myself,  and  the  reproof  of  my  own  conscience,  and 
a  resolution  to  amend.  I  am  certain  all  these  things 
will  be  forgotten,  but  I  thought  I  might  not  have  a 
better  opportunity  of  telling  you  how  deeply  I  regret 


VISIT    TO    LONDON.  167 

them.  I  shall  ever  entertain  the  liveliest  emotions 
of  gratitude  for  the  care  and  pains  you  have  taken 
in  the  superintending  and  directing  my  studies,  and 
though  distance  may  separate  us,  I  trust  love  will 
unite  us.  I  am  persuaded  you  will  never  forget  me, 
;ind  I  beg  you  will  receive  this  book  as  a  tribute  of 
affection,  and  a  memorial  of  lasting  friendship.  My 
obligations  to  you  are  many,  and  I  wish  you  to  pos- 
sess something  as  a  token  of  my  sense  of  them. 
Perchance,  when  you  take  up  the  volume,  you  will 
recur  to  former  scenes  and  associations,  and  think 
of  Turvey — "  sed  tempora  mutantur."  I  hope  my 
letter  will  not  displease  you  :  if  I  have  not  the  pen 
of  a  ready  writer,  I  can  safely  say,  I  am  sincere  in 
all  I  have  said.  Be  assured  of  this,  that  however 
far  distant  you  may  be,  or  whatever  clime  you  may 
dwell  in — long  indeed  must  the  time  be  before  I  can 
forget  so  good  a  master  as  you  have  been  to  me.  I 
cannot  bid  you  farewell,  until  I  have  wished  you 
health  and  happiness  wherever  you  may  be.  I  shall 
highly  value  and  prize  your  correspondence. 
"  Ever  yours,  gratefully  and  affectionately, 

''  WiLBERFORCE." 

I  perceive,  by  Mr.  R.'s  memoranda,  that  he  toolc 
his  little  boy  on  a  visit  to  London,  with  a  view  to 
amuse  and  instruct  him  by  the  curiosities  of  that 
magnificent  metropolis. 

I  have  no  doubt  the  conversation  with  his  child  on 
this  occasion  was  intended  for  insertion,  and  would 
probably  have  afforded  an  illustration  of  his  own 
constant  aim  at  improvement,  no  less  than  the  char- 


168  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

acter  and  progress  of  his  companion.  A  letter  to 
Wilberforce  on  a  subsequent  visit  to  town  by  him- 
self, may  in  a  small  degree  supply  the  defect. 

"My  dear   Master  Wilberforce, 

"  As  you  asked  me  to  describe  to  you  some  of  the 
sights  which  have  met  my  eye  in  this  sightly  and 
sightful  city,  I  will  obey  you. 

•'  1.  The  Hobby,  or  Accelerator,  or  Adjutor. 
The  neatness  of  its  motions,  the  swiftness  of  its 
speed,  the  elegance  of  its  management,  and  the 
simplicity  of  its  construction,  are  very  remarkable. 
I  have  not  had  a  quiet  opportunity  of  trying  it, 
nor  do  I  think  the  lame  can  manage  it  so  well 
as  others.  On  Tuesday  next,  a  new  one  for  ladies 
only  is  to  be  exhibited.  All  the  town  is  wild  this 
year  after  hobbies,  as  they  were  last  year  for  kalei- 
doscopes. Old  men  and  children,  young  men  and 
maidens  will  soon  be  whirling-  and  twirling  like  Te- 
totums.  Twelve  places  of  exhibition  already  exist. 
I  have  been  much  amused  with  the  sight. 

"  2.  The  Automaton  Chess  Player.  Nothing  ever 
surprised  or  perplexed  me  so  much  as  this.  It  is  a 
masterpiece  of  mechanical  invention,  and  how  it 
acts,  is  as  yet  past  discovery.  It  has  been  shown 
throughout  Europe,  but  no  one  has  approached  to 
detection.  It  had  so  singular  an  effect  on  my  nerves, 
that  I  washed  for  permission  to  give  one  immense 
laugh,  and  another  immense  cry,  in  order  to  give 
vent  to  my  exuberant  spirits.  The  whole  company 
sat  in  motionless  wonder  for  an  hour,  during  which, 
one  of  them  played  against  the  Automaton  Turk, 


EXHIBITIONS.  169 

and  was  beaten,  though  a  first-rate  player,  which' 
vexed  him  not  a  little,  and  he  pinched  his  nose,  and 
bit  his  fingers  with  vexation.  Our  silence  was  then 
broken  by  a  man  of  wood,  dressed  as  a  trumpeter, 
and  who  played  like  a  trumpeter,  and  full  well  he 
trumpeted,  for  he  accompanied  with  great  precision 
his  master  and  maker,  who  played  a  piece  on  the 
Piano  Forte. 

''  3.  The  Gothic  Hall  of  ancient  armory.  This 
is  very  magnificent — cost  three  thousand  pounds, 
and  alas  !  is  going  to  be  sold  by  auction  like  Bul- 
lock's Musuem,  part  of  the  dissolution  of  which  I 
have  witnessed  in  the  auction  room.  I  saw  an  an- 
tique piece  of  sculpture  put  up  ;  one  pound,  said  a 
gentleman  ;  two,  said  another  ;  three — four — five 
— one  hundred,  said  the  next ;  two  hundred  and 
fifty,  said  an  old  lady  ;  five  hundred,  said  another — 
and  down  it  went. 

"  4.  The  Sostenente  Piano  Forte.  Lovely, 
sweet,  chaste,  bewitching  tones.  Very  handsome 
in  appearance — price  from  one  hundred  and  ten,  to 
three  hundred  guineas. 

"  5.  Doctor  Thornton's  lecture  on  the  human 
frame.  A  fresh  subject  discussed  every  time. 
About  thirty  ladies  and  forty  gentlemen  present ; 
very  useful  and  instructive.  Fine  transparent  paint- 
ings of  the  different  parts  of  the  system  illustrated  ; 
a  grand  collection  of  human  bones,  and  of  all  kinds 
of  animals  ;  he  exhibited  the  laughing  gas,  and  it 
made  us  all  laugh  wonderfully  ;  none  could  conceive 
the  effect  without  seeing  it ;  several  of  the  company 
tried  and  exhibited  the  experiment.     He  produced 

8 


170  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

by  another  gas,  a  globe  of  fire,  quite,  indeed,  quite 
as  bright  as  the  sun  at  noon-day.     He  also  made, 

as  H would  say,    '  an  enormous   bang,'   with 

soap-suds  and  hydrogen-gas.  The  ladies  screamed 
with  fright,  but  no  harm  was  done,  and  the  laugh- 
ing gas  banished  all  alarms. 

"  6.  The  Panorama  of  Spitzbergen,  novel  and 
satisfactory.  Icebergs,  ice-mountains,  snow,  seas, 
ships,  seals,  sea-horses,  laruses,  white  bears,  arctic 
dogs,  &c.,  in  abundance  ;  skies  terrific — the  whole 
admirably  executed,  and  affording  a  complete  lec- 
ture on  the  natural  history  of  the  Polar  districts. 

"  7.  The  Dandies.  Very  numerous,  and  vastly 
abominable.  I  will  not  describe  them,  for  verily 
my  soul  loatheth  them.  The  dandizettes,  the  more 
sightly  of  the  two ;  but  alas  !  vanity  of  vanities,  all 
is  vanity  ! 

"  8.  The  South  war  k  bridge,  which  you  and  I 
saw  casting  at  Rotherham.  It  strides  most  nobly 
across  the  Thames,  and  is  a  grand  ornament  to  the 
river. 

"  9.  The  Persian  Ambassador.  A  fine  figure 
in  full  costume,  and  quite  answers  one's  idea  of  an 
oriental  Mahometan  grandee. 

''  10.  The  fair  Circassian.  As  nobody  sees  her, 
of  course  I  do  not.  so  I  cannot  describe  her. 

"  I  have  gone  through  my  arduous  day,  and  have 
been  gratified  by  a  long  and  interesting  conversa- 
tion with  L W .    I  have  received  no  letters 

from  home,  and  have  therefore  no  answer  to  send. 
"  With  great  love  to  you  all, 

*'  Your  affectionate  Father,       L.  R," 


LETTERS  FROM  HIS  FATHER.         171 

This  playful  and  amusing  journal  of  London  cu- 
riosities, contains  no  allusion  to  the  subject  which 
lay  nearest  to  his  heart.  But  Mr.  Richmond  sel- 
dom \Yrote  on  any  occasion  to  his  children  without 
reminding  them  of  some  religious  truth,  or  connect- 
ing whatever  was  curious  in  art,  or  beautiful  and 
grand  in  nature,  with  a  remark  calculated  to  inspire 
in  their  minds  sentiments  of  solid  and  scriptural 
piety.  The  following  letters  to  Wilberforce  are  fair 
specimens  of  his  usual  manner.  The  first  of  these 
was  written  when  he  was  yet  a  little  boy. 

'•  Dearest  little  boy, 

"As  I  was  journeying  near  York  last  Saturday, 
where  should  I  suddenly  find  myself  but  in  a  little 
village  called  Wilberforce,  as  my  driver  and  the 
way-post  informed  me.  '  Dear  me,'  said  I  to  my 
fellow-traveller,  '  how  a  certain  little  lad  of  my  ac- 
quaintance, would  be  surprised  and  pleased  had  he 
been  in  the  chaise  this  moment.'  So  I  got  out  and 
walked  up  and  down  in  Wilberforce,  thinking  and 
talking  about  that  said  little  lad.  It  is  a  pretty  little 
place.  As  I  loved  the  name,  both  for  your  sake, 
and  for  the  sake  of  Henrietta's  godfather ;  I  amused 
myself  with  asking  different  people  the  name  of 
the  place,  and  everybody's  answer  was  the  same. 
I  asked  an  old  man,  '  What  is  this  village  called  V 
'  Wilberforce,  an'  please  your  reverence,'  said  he, 
and  so  said  all  the  rest ;  and  thus  I  pleased  myself 
with  making  a  great  many  people  speak  your  name, 
till  one  of  them  said,  'I  canna  think  wots  the  mat- 
ter wi'  the  mon ;  he  made  us  aw  say  the  same  thing. 


172  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

Mayhop  the  mon's  a  foo.'  Now  all  that  was  the 
matter  with  me,  was  that  I  loved  you,  and  it  quite 
pleased  me  to  hear  your  name  when  I  so  little  ex- 
pected it. 

"  On  Thursday  last  I  saw  a  gentleman  and  a 
lady  mount  up  in  a  balloon,  a  mile  high  into  the  air, 
and  after  sailing  there  near  an  hour,  they  came 
down  again  quite  safe.  On  Saturday  I  went  to  see 
the  finest  church  in  all  England.  It  is  more  beau- 
tiful than  all  the  churches  I  ever  saw  put  together. 
To-day  I  have  visited  the  wonderful  dropping  well 
of  Knaresborough,  which  petrifies,  after  a  time, 
whatever  it  touches.  To-morrow  I  am  going  to 
see  one  of  the  finest  ruins  in  the  kingdom.  Foun- 
tain's Abbey.  Look  at  your  map,  it  is  near  Ripon 
in  Yorkshire.  This  day  I  received  a  most  beau- 
tiful letter  from  the  Russian  Princess  Sophia 
Metcskersky  of  St.  Petersburgh.  I  thing  I  never 
had  so  pretty  a  letter.  What  makes  it  so  pretty  ? 
It  is  because  it  is  about  Jesus  Christ.  Nothing  is 
good  or  right  or  pretty  ivitliout  him.     He  only  is 


& 


altogether  lovely. 

"  I  hope  both  your  leg  and  your  lessons  go  on 

well.     If  they  do,  you  must  thank  Mr.  C for 

the  one  and  Mr.  G.  (to  whom  give  my  love)  for 
the  other,  and  God  for  both.  *  #  *<  * 
Last  night,  at  ten  o'clock,  I  saw  the  Aurora  Borea- 
lis,  like  a  white  rainbow  stretching  all  over  the  sky. 
On  Monday  I  went  to  see  the  iron  founders  make 
cannon.  They  melted  the  iron  in  a  huge  hot  fur- 
nace, it  ran  out  along  the  ground  like  a  little  river 
of  liquid  fire — very  terrific  ! 


LETTERS  FROM  HIS  FATHER.         173 

"  I  have  picked  up  many  curious-  stones  for  the 
museum.  God  bless  you,  my  little  boy,  and  God 
bless  Henry.  Tell  him  I  love  him,  and  I  hope  he 
loves  me.  Kiss  all  your  brothers  and  sisters  for  me, 
and  tell  them  all  to  be  very  good.     Behave  well  to 

dear  mamma,  and  Mr.  G ,  and  so  good  bye. 

''  From  your  loving  papa, 

''L.  Richmond." 

The  following  letter  is  of  later  date. 

London. 

"  *         *         *"         Your  dear  mamma 

has  evidently  improved  in  health  by  her  visit  to 
town,  which  I  therefore  feel  it  right  to  lengthen, 
that  by  freedom  for  a  time  from  domestic  labors 
and  hourly  anxieties,  she  may,  if  God  pleases,  be 
the  better  enabled  to  continue  her  numerous  atten- 
tions to  you  and  her  other  children  at  home.  You 
know  her  great  value  to  us  all,  and  the  day  to  which 
you  allude  will  stand  as  a  lasting  memorial  to  us 
of  the  loving  kindness  of  God. 

"  On  Tuesday  last  I  went  to  Carlton  Palace,  with 
four  hundred  graduates  of  the  University  of  Cam- 
bridge, to  present  an  address  of  congratulation  to 
the  Prince  Reagent  on  the  marriao;e  of  his  dauo^hter. 
It  was  a  fine  sight,  and  the  splendor  of  the  rooms 
surprised  me.  We  walked  through  St.  James's 
street  and  Pall  Mall,  two  and  two,  in  very  long 
procession,  all  dressed  in  the  various  university 
robes.  The  Duke  of  Gloucester,  one  Archbishop 
and  nine  bishops  went  first,  all  the  rest  in  scarlet, 
blue  and  gold,  blue  and  silver,  black  and  gold,  black 


174  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

gowns,  &c.  An  immense  collection  of  carriages 
and  people  on  foot  filled  the  streets  to  see  the  pro- 
cession, which  occupied  three-quarters  of  the  length 
of  Pall  Mall.  We  passed  through  seven  grand  and 
princely  chambers,  till  at  length  we  reached  the 
last,  in  which  the  Regent,  seated  on  his  throne, 
received  us.  The  Duke  of  Gloucester  delivered 
the  address,  to  which  the  Prince  made  a  handsome 
reply.  We  all  successively  made  our  obeisances, 
and  after  remaining  a  short  time  to  inspect  the 
beauty  and  gi-andeur  of  the  different  state  apart- 
ments, we  returned,  as  we  came,  to  a  cold  collation 
provided  for  the  members  of  the  university.  The 
Prince  was  surrounded  by  all  the  great  officers  of 
state,  and  the  whole  effect  was  imposing  and  superb. 
But  fine  and  entertaining  as  was  this  scene  of  earthly 
grandeur,  what  is  a  palace  compared  to  a  cottage, 
if  the  grace  of  God  is  in  one  and  not  in  the  other  ? 
Earthly  greatness  is  but  dust,  and  will  return  to 
dust.  Grace  alone  will  outlive  it  and  then  what  a 
palace  will  heaven  be  to  those  who  are  made  kings 
and  priests  forever  I 

I  have  been  to  see  the  great  panorama  of 
Waterloo.  It  is  finely  painted,  but  a  very  terrible 
exhibition.  I  think  nothing  on  earth  so  dreadful 
as  the  murder,  fury,  confusion,  pain  and  suffering 
of  a  battle.  Even  the  picture  fills  me  with  sadness 
and  horror. 

"I  have  also  seen  a  panorama  of  Jerusalem,  very 
inferior  as  a  painting,  but  very  interesting  to  my 
mind,  as  portraying  the  place  where  Jesus  Christ 
taught,  and  sometimes  lived  in  the  days  of  his  flesh. 


LETTERS  FROM  HIS  FATHER.         175 

I  stood  upon  the  Mount  of  Olives,  and  looked 
around  me  on  Mount  Zion,  Gethsemane,  Calvary, 
Bethany,  the  Valley  of  Jehoshaphat,  the  Brook 
Kedron,  the  pool  of  Bethesda,  the  Wilderness,  &c., 
(fee.  The  ideas  which  arose  in  my  mind  affected 
me  deeply.  I  was  moved  to  tenderness  and  tears, 
as  I  looked  back  in  thought  upon  years  that  are 
past,  and  events  with  which  is  associated  all  that  is 
most  dear  to  the  Christian.  And  would  they  not, 
my  dear  boy,  have  touched  your  heart  ? 

"  I  am  requested  to  preach  an  electrical  sermon  ; 
that  is,  a  sermon  in  behalf  of  a  charitable  institution, 
called  the  electrical  dispensary,  for  administering 
medical  electricity  to  the  poor.  Some  of  the 
patients  appear  to  be  in  a  very  wretched  condition. 
Out  of  7800  persons,  3000  have  been  cured,  4000 
greatly  benefitted,  and  800  discharged  without  re- 
ceiving any  advantage  from  this  kind  of  treatment. 
I  have  been  thinking  that  this  would  be  a  very  suit- 
able text — '  GOD  IS  Light.'  Our  greatest  gratifi- 
cation has  been  derived  from  attending  the  public 
meetino's  of  the  relisfious  and  benevolent  institutions. 
One,  and  sometimes  two,  are  held  in  a  day.  It  is 
an  unspeakable  delight  to  see  with  our  eyes,  and 
hear  with  our  ears,  what  God  is  so  manifestly  and 
so  mercifully  bringing  to  pass,  by  the  exertions  of 
so  many  valuable  societies. 

"  Tell  G to  take  care  that  all  the  usual  and 

necessary  preparations  be  made  for  the  club  anni- 
versary on  AVhit  Friday.  We  hope  to  be  in  our 
places  on  that  day.  Et  jam  vale,  charissime  puer ; 
memor  esto  Dei  omnipresentis,  et  patris  nunc  ab- 


176  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

sent  is  et  matris  tuae  tenerrimae  pretiosissimsB,  de- 
lectissimse.  Te  ipsum  cum  fratribus  sororibnsqiic 
in  votis  habemus.  Ora  pro  nobis,  ora.  Iteruni 
iterumque  vale. 

''  Your  affectionate  Father, 

"  L.  Richmond." 

Wilberforce  inherited  his  father's  taste  for  the 
beauties  of  nature.  In  Mr.  R,'s  memoranda  I  find 
a  list  of  more  than  thirty  places  of  natural  magnifi- 
cence which  he  visited  with  his  son,  and  reference 
made  to  conversations  and  mutual  delight,  in  a  sur- 
vey of  the  works  of  God.  I  regret  that  my  guide 
has  only  left  me  these  traces  of  his  footsteps  in  the 
following  notes. 

*'  His  first  visit  to  Matlock  at  four  years  old,  his 
ecstacy,  and  remarks,  even  then,  on  natural  scenery. 

"  Visited  &c.,  &c.,  &c.  ;  his  admiration  and  de- 
light while  he  stood  lost  in  thought,  and  mused  over 
this  exquisite  scenery. 

"  Minerals  of  the  Bible — his  acquaintance  with 
their  character — his  affectionate  disposition — his 
conduct  and  feelings  on  the  report  of  Nugent's 
death." 

In  the  same  paper  he  notes, 

''  His  strict  and  honorable  conduct — exempt  from 
many  of  the  vices  common  to  his  age — his  confi- 
dential faithfulness — disposition  to  fastidiousness — 
mourned  over  in  his  last  iUness,"  &c. 

The  following  letter  to  a  companion  is  the  only 
one  of  this  character  I  shall  offer  the  reader.  It  will 
appear  how  completely  Mr.  R.  had  succeeded   in 


EARLY    CHARACTER    OF    WILBERFORCE.  177 

transfusing   his  own  spirit  and    principle  into  the 
mind  of  his  beloved  Wilberforce. 

*'Dear  — 


''  I  know  nothing  which  I  remember  with  more 
pleasure  than  the  hours  we  have  spent  together  in 
domestic  music.  I  shall  never  regret  the  time  I  have 
given  to  music,  when  I  consider  its  tendency  to  at- 
tach us  to  our  delightful  homes.  We  have  indeed 
passed  many  happy  hours  together,  none  happier 
than  those  under  your  own  roof.  #  #  #  i 
have  been  delighted  with  the  scenery  of  Scotland.  I 
have  never  seen  anything  which  has  given  me  such 
an  idea  of  the  wisdom  and  power  of  the  Creator. 
I  do  indeed  admire  the  rugged  grandeur  of  the 
mountains,  and  the  wild  beauty  of  the  heath,  but  I 
still  admire  our  own  fertile  plains ;  *  *  * 
and  after  all  no  country  can  be  so  pleasant  to  us 
as  that  to  which  we  have  been  endeared  from  our 
earliest  infancy.  Most  anxiously,  then,  do  I  wish 
once  more  to  enjoy  with  you  the  sight  of  our  native 
village,  with  the  river  wandering  peacefully  through 
the  green  meadows,  and  to  revisit  the  scenes  of  our 
boyish  recollections.  *  #  *  I  was 

greatly  pleased  with  my  visit  to  London.  The 
greatest  treat  was  the  British  Museum.  The  min- 
erals are  so  exquisite,  so  beyond  conception  beauti- 
ful and  interesting.  There  is  a  very  fine  Museum 
in  Glasgow,  and  some  beautiful  specimens  of  min- 
erals in  it  It  has  just  received  the  addition  of  a  live 
rattle  snake,  which  uses  its  tail  in  tremendous  style, 
and  when  disturbed  is  ready  to  revenge  an  affront. 
8* 


178  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

*  *  *^  I  shall  probably  astonish  the  Scotchmen 
soon  with  the  peculiarity  and  beauty  of  my  visage, 
for  the  hairdresser  ('  who  cuts  and  curls  my  hair  in 
the  last  Parisian  fashion')  assures  me  that  in  a  very 
short  time  I  must  have  my  head  shaved,  and  ex- 
change a  few  straggling  locks  for  a  wig.  My  pate 
will  look  like  a  lump  of  coxcomb  iron  pyrites." 

I  would  not  weary  my  reader  by  dwelling  on  the 
early  character  of  Wilberforce,  or  detain  him  from 
details  of  higher  interest ;  the  particulars  I  have 
mentioned  serve  to  show,  that  true  piety  is  perfectly 
compatible  with  all  that  is  innocent  and  rational  in 
our  pursuits  and  recreations :  that  it  cannot  fairly 
be  ascribed  to  mere  dullness  or  morbid  sensibility, 
and  that  it  is  not  necessary  to  denounce  a  devoat 
and  heavenly  spirit,  in  order  to  establish  a  claim  to 
superiority  of  sense  or  refinement. 

I  will  now  pursue  the  memoir  into  narrations 
more  immediately  connected  with  my  purpose ;  the 
illustration  of  Mr.  R.'s  peculiar  method  in  the  relig- 
ious education  of  his  children,  and  the  success  which 
attended  his  unremitted  and  conscientious  discharge 
of  the  duties  of  a  Christian  parent. 

When  Wilberforce  was  a  little  child,  his  father, 
aware  of  the  vast  importance  of  early  associations, 
accustomed  him  to  habits  of  religion,  even  before  he 
had  a  capacity  to  understand  or  value  them.  He 
consecrated  to  God  his  lohole  family  in  daily  prayers ; 
the  infant  in  arms  was  present  as  a  worshipper,  it 
might  at  first  disturb  the  order  of  the  family  devo- 
tion, but  it  soon  learned  silence,  and  seemed  pleased 
with  the  group  before  it.     So  long  at  it  could  not 


EARLY    TRAINING.  179 

speak  he  spoke  for  it ;  he  wouki  hold  it  in  his  arms 
saying,  "  God  be  gracious  to  thee,  my  son."  When 
Wilberforce  could  scarcely  lisp  in  accents  of  prayer 
or  praise,  Mr.  R.  composed  the  following  little  piece, 
to  be  committed  to  memory  and  repeated  to  his 
mamma  every  evening.  In  these  simple  lines  nothing 
more  was  aimed  at  than  a  suitable  vehicle  of  instruc- 
tion to  an  infant  mind.  It  breathes  the  same  devout, 
tender,  and  affectionate  spirit  which  pervades  Mr. 
R.'s  other  productions. 

WILBERFORCE'S   EVENING  ADDRESS  TO  MAMMA. 

Mamma,  'tis  Jesus  loves  my  soul, 
And  makes  the  wounded  sinner  whole  ; 
My  nature  is  by  sin  defiled, 
Yet  Jesus  loves  a  little  child. 

I  know  my  temper  is  not  right, 
I'm  often  tretful.  scold  and  fight, 
I  would  hke  him  be  meek  and  mild, 
For  Jesus  loves  a  little  child. 

How  kind  is  Jesus,  oh  !  how  good  ! 
For  my  poor  soul  he  shed  his  blood  ; 
For  children's  sake  he  was  reviled, 
Yet  Jesus  loves  a  little  child. 

When  I  offend  you  by  my  tongue, 
And  say  and  do  what's  verj"^  wrong, 
O  pray,  mamma,  be  reconciled, 
For  Jesus  loves  your  little  child. 

He  teaches  me  to  shed  a  tear, 
Whene'er  I  grieve  a  friend  so  dear ; 
But  though  I  am  so  thoughtless,  wild, 
Yet  Jesus  loves  the  little  child. 

To  me  may  Jesus  now  impart 
Although  so  young,  a  gracious  heart; 


180  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

Alas  !  I'm  oft  by  sin  defiled, 
Yet  Jesus  loves  the  little  child. 

And  I  love  him,  lor  he  loves  me, 
And  hope  his  faithful  child  to  be; 
The  Sinner's  Friend  he's  justly  styled, 
And  Jesus  loves  your  little  child." 

The  following  letter  to  his  little  boy  on  his  birth- 
day, is  of  the  same  character. 

"  It  was  early  this  morn  as  I  waked  from  my  rest, 
An  unusual  emotion  sprung  up  in  my  breast : 
The  occasion  of  this,  do  you  wish  to  be  told  1 
'Tis  my  little  boy's  birth-day — he's  just  four  years  old. 

Foolish  father!  cries  one,  is  this  all  you  can  say  1 
Is  this  to  disturb  all  your  feelings  to-day  7 
Yes — and  were  you  a  father,  you  would  not  feel  cold, 
On  your  little  boy's  birth-day,  when  just  four  years  old 

Old  maidens  and  bach'lors  who  no  children  have, 
Your  patience  I  ask,  for  your  pardon  I  crave, 
While  this  child  to  my  heart  I  so  warmly  enfold, 
On  the  little  boy's  birth-day,  who's  just  four  years  old. 

Ye  mothers,  who  clasp  your  dear  babes  in  your  arms 
And  watch  o'er  their  youth  with  a  thousand  alarms, 
Set  your's  down  for  one  instant,  my  child  to  behold, 
'Tis  the  little  boy's  birth-day,  he's  just  four  years  old. 

Ye  that  doat  on  your  own  lads,  can  feel  for  another's, 
And  bear  with  the  fondness  of  fathers  and  mothers, 
I  invite  your  attendance,  so  deem  it  not  bold, — 
'Tis  the  little  boy's  birth-day,  he's  just  four  years  old. 

He  can  prattle  and  talk,  with  a  sweet  little  smile, 
Which  my  heaviest  moments  will  often  beguile  ; 
So  I  value  him  more  than  ten  millions  twice  told  : 
'Tis  my  little  boy's  birth-day,  he's  just  four  years  old. 

Dear  wife,  on  whose  breast  the  dear  babe  hung  so  long, 
Shall  my  muse,  on  this  day,  forget  thee  in  her  song  1 


Early  character.  181 

Come  and  kiss  the  poor  lad,  and  rejoice  to  be  told 

'Tis  your  little  boy's  birth-day— he's  just  four  years  old. 

My  sweet  boy  !  I've  been  writing  these  verses  for  you, 
They  show  more  of  the  father  than  poet,  'tis  true  ! 
Yet  in  spite  of  the  critics,  papa  will  be  bold  : 
Little  boy,  'tis  your  birth-day — you're  just  four  years  old. 

May  the  blessing  of  God,  in  abundance  poured  down, 
Give  thee  grace  while  on  earth,  and  in  glory  a  crown  ; 
As  thou  growest  in  years,  may  thy  virtues  unfold, 
'Tis  my  prayer  on  thy  birth-day,  when  just  four  years  old.'' 

The  incidents  of  childhood  are  seldom  interest- 
ing beyond  the  family  circle,  neither  can  much  reli- 
ance be  placed  on  early  appearances  of  piety  un- 
tried by  temptation.  It  may  be  well  to  cherish 
every  holy  emotion  in  our  children  ;  to  water  and 
cultivate  the  tender  plant  committed  to  our  care  ; 
but  until  influence  and  impression  is  succeeded  by 
principle  and  the  choice  of  the  mind,  we  may  re- 
joice in  the  buddings  of  divine  life,  but  we  must  not 
indulge  in  too  sanguine  expectations.  The  scep- 
tical tendencies  of  Wilberforce's  mind  in  childhood, 
are  by  no  means  of  rare  occurrence  at  that  age ; 
for  infidelity,  notwithstanding  its  arrogant  preten- 
sions to  superiority,  is  the  vulgar  weed  which  grows 
in  every  soil,  and  withers  before  the  sunshine  of 
clearer  information  ;  a  little  knowledge  may  help  to 
an  objection,  when  diligent  and  serious  inquiry  will 
discover  its  futility. 

There  is  one  note  in  Mr.  Richmond's  papers, 
which  refers  to  Wilberforce's  conduct  and  feelings 
on  receiving  the  report  of  his  brother's  death.*  It 
is  probable  he  shared  his  father's  anguish  in  that 


182  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

mournful  event — uncertain  as  they  both  were  of 
Nugent's  spiritual  welfare,  and  fearing  the  worst 
from  all  that  was  then  known  of  his  past  conduct. 
They  had  heard  nothing  of  those  satisfactory  testi- 
monies to  his  conversion,  which  afterwards  cheered 
and  relieved  their  minds.  A  concern  for  the  ever- 
lasting welfare  of  another,  is  no  small  evidence  of 
our  own  sincerity  in  the  pursuit  of  eternal  life  ;  and 
I  have  no  doubt  that  Wilberforce  had,  at  that  time, 
made  a  progress  in  true  religion,  greater  than  his 
extreme  reserve  warranted  his  friends  to  conclude. 
His  respect  for  piety,  the  deep  attention  with  which 
he  listened  to  instruction,  the  satisfaction  which  he 
displayed  in  communicating  to  others  what  he 
seemed  to  understand  himself,  and  his  uniform  good 
conduct  and  general  conformity  to  the  habits  of  a 
religious  family,  induced  his  father  to  hope  ''  all 
was  well  with  him,"  though  he  was  too  deeply  im- 
pressed with  the  infinite  value  and  necessity  of  a 
sound  conversion  to  God,  to  rest  satisfied  with  any- 
thing short  of  a  full  and  explicit  declaration  on  the 
part  of  his  child. 

Wilberforce  had  ever  expressed  a  decided  prefer- 
ence for  the  ministry,  which  rendered  it,  in  Mr. 
R.'s  judgement,  the  more  necessary  that  he  should 
possess  a  piety  the  most  decided  and  unequivocal. 
To  become  by  profession  an  ambassador  for  God  to 
a  guilty  world,  without  credentials^  was  justly  re- 
garded by  him  as  a  profane  intrusion  into  an  office 
of  immense  responsibility ;  and  he  has  been  heard 
to  say  that  "  he  would  rather  follow  his  son  to  the 


LETTER  FROM  HIS  FATHER.         183 

grave,  than  see  him  in  the  church  without  being 
fitted  for  such  a  sacred  office."* 

The  sentiments  of  both  will  be  best  expressed  in 
the  following  correspondence.  The  first  letter  was 
written  from  Stockport,  in  Lancashire,  when  Wil- 
berforce  was  eleven  years  old. 

"  Dear  Willy, 

"  Are  you  indeed u  good  boy  during  my  absence? 
Shall  I  have  no  cause  for  heart-ache  on  my  return, 
when  I  ask  how  my  child  has  behaved  ?  How  he 
has  obeyed  his  mamma  ?  How  he  has  attended  to 
his  lessons  ?  How  he  has  submitted  to  his  sister's 
instructions  ?  How  he  has  conducted  himself  to- 
wards Mr.  G ?     How  he  has  adhered  to  truth 

in   his  words?     How  he    has   set   H a  good 

example  ?  Shall  I  be  comforted  with  the  glad  tid- 
ings, that  your  heart  and  your  conscience,  and  your 
ways,  all  seem  to  partake  of  a  happy  influence  ? 
that  you  throw  away  all  indolence  of  mind  and 
body  ?  that  you  actively  pursue  learning  and  gain 
it?  that  your  brother  improves  every  day  through 
the  effect  of  your  good  behavior  ?  that  you  seldom 
or  ever  quarrel,  snap,  or  snarl  at  him  ?  that  you 
pray  to  God  to  forgive  your  sins  and  hourly  offences  ? 

*  The  expression  of  Mr.  Richmond  is  a  strong  one,  though  in 
perfect  unison  with  the  sentiments  and  feeUngs  of  the  Editor. 
Mr.  R.  must  not,  however,  be  mistaken,  as  if  he  connected  his  child's 
death  with  eternal  consequences.  There  can  be  no  doubt  that  he 
intended  to  say,  he  should  feel  the  death  of  his  child  a  less  afflict- 
ing dispensation  than  his  profaning  a  holy  ordinance,  and,  by 
ignorance  or  neglect,  involving  immortal  souls  in  everlasting 
destruction. 


184  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

Shall  I  be  told  that  you  have  prepared  a  happy  re- 
turn home  for  papa,  by  his  hearing  all  this  good  of 
you,  when  he  comes  back  ?  Do  the  four  walls  of 
your  little  chamber  bear  witness  to  your  prayers 
and  supplications  for  yourself  and  me  ?  Do  the 
sun's  rays  as  they  early  penetrate  your  window  in 
the  morning,  find  you  active  to  rise,  to  read,  to  la- 
bor, and  to  grow  in  grace  7  #  *  ^  ^ 
I  have  seen  some  beautiful  counties  since  I  left  you. 
Staffordshire  is  full  of  bea.uty.  Lichfield  cathedral 
too,  which,  though  much  smaller  than  York  Min- 
ster, is  a  very  fine  building.  I  attended  divine  ser- 
vice there ;  the  organ  notes  rolled  sublimely  along 
the  vaulted  arches,  pillars,  and  roof.  The  exqui- 
sitely painted  windows  assimilated  to  the  sounds, 
and  rendered  the  effect  most  enchanting.  The 
spires  are  beautiful,  and  larges  sums  have  been  laid 
out  in  repairing  and  restoring  them. 

"  One  evening  I  travelled  with  a  friend  in  a  gig 
for  three  hours,  amidst  the  never-ceasing  distant 
lightning.  The  whole  western  hemisphere  was  in 
a  constant  blaze.  The  flashes  alternated  from  one 
point  of  the  horizon  to  another,  distant  about  forty- 
five  degrees  from  each  other  ;  sometimes  the  flashes 
were  silvery,  sometimes  yellow,  then  orange  color  ; 
one  while  sheet-like,  and  again  so  vivid  that  we 
seemed  to  have  a  peep  into  more  distant  regions  of 
space  ;  then  more  faint,  now  and  then  we  heard 
slight  rumblings ;  then  all  was  silent  again.  At 
one  point  the  flashes  gleamed  on  the  ruins  of  a  dis- 
tant castle  which  appeared  all  on  fire ;  a  dark 
forest   lay  behind,  and   it  formed   a  fine  contrast 


CORRESPOXDExNCE     WITH    IIIS    FATHER.  185 

Sometimes  the  forked  flashes  pursued  one  another 
in  a  kind  of  playful  progress  ;  at  others  they  dashed 
at  each  other  as  if  in  terrible  combat  ;  all  this  passed 
between  seven  and  ten  in  the  evening. 

"  But  what  are  these  lightnings,  compared  with 
those  which  made  Moses  quake  and  tremble  at 
Mount  Sinai,  or  what  were  even  these,  contrasted 
with  the  lightnings  of  God's  wrath  against  sinners  ? 
These  appearances  of  nature  are  striking  emblems 
of  Divine  justice.  You  have  need  to  flee  from  the 
wrath  to  come.  Repent,  for  the  kingdom  of  heaven 
is  at  hand.  The  wicked,  and  all  the  people  that  for- 
get God,  shall  be  turned  into  hell.  Dear  Willy,  if 
you  forget  him,  what  will  be  your  portion  ?  If  you 
say  that  you  do  not  forget  him,  how  do  you  prove 
it? 

Video  meliora  proboque 
Deteriora  sequor, 

is  the  character  of  too  many  nominal  Christians.  I 
would  not  have  it  to  be  yours ;  an  enlightened,  con- 
verted mind  ;  with  eyes  and  tongue  to  approve  what 
is  right,  but  the  feet  walking  in  the  paths  of  evil. 
A  converted  heart  alone  will  enable  you  to  follow 
his  steps,  who  is  '  the  way,  the  truth  and  the  life.' 
"I  sincerely  hope  that  you  are  beginning  to  be 
truly  sensible  of  the  evil  and  danger  of  sin,  and  the 
necessity  of  seeking  God  betimes.  Occasional  in- 
dispositions should  remind  you,  that  you  may  never 
arrive  at  man's  estate.  If  you  are  to  die  a  boy,  we 
must  looli  for  a  boy's  religion,  a  boy's  knowledge, 
a  boy's  faith,  a  boy^s  Saviour,  a  boy's  salvation  ;  or 


186  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

else  a  boy's  ignorance,  a  boy's  obstinacy,  a  boy's 
unbelief,  a  boy's  idolatry,  a  boy's  destruction.  Re- 
member all  this,  and  beware  of  sin  ;  above  all,  dread 
the  sinfulness  of  an  estranged  heart.  Pray. for  a 
new  one  ;  pray  for  grace  and  pardon,  and  a  soul 
conformed  to  the  image  of  Christ ;  pray  for  wisdom, 
for  the  destruction  of  pride,  vain  conceit,  and  self- 
sufficiency.  Be  not  slothful  in  business,  but  fervent 
in  spirit,  serving  tlie  Lord.  Friends  here  inquire 
after  you,  in  the  full  hope  that  you  are  going  on 
well,  creditably,  obediently,  industriously,  humbly 
and  Christianly.     Love  to  all,  from 

''  Your  affectionate  Father, 

''L.  R." 

What  reply  was  made  by  Wilberforce  to  this 
letter,  does  not  appear ;  his  repugnance  to  a  free 
and  unreserved  communication  on  the  subject  of 
personal  religion,  seems  not  to  have  been  overcome 
till  nearly  four  years  after,  though  his  anxious 
father  longed  to  elicit  something  on  this  point  more 
satisfactory  than  could  be  collected  from  a  general 
acquiescence  in  the  opinions  and  habits  of  the 
family.  A  letter  written  by  Wilberforce  to  his 
father  in  1821,  discloses  a  mind  under  the  influence 
of  more  distinct  views,  and  stronger  feelings  break- 
ing through  the  fetters  of  natural  reserve. 

^'  My  dear  Father, 

''You  wdll  believe  me,  when  I  say,  that  I  entirely 
and  most  thoroughly  agree  with  you,  '  that  it  is  time 
we  should  communicate  frequently,  intimately,  and 


CORRESPONDENCE    WITH    HIS    FATHER.  187 

confidentially.'  I  feel  very  thankful  that  you  have 
so  plainly  declared  your  thoughts  and  determina- 
tion concerning  me  ;  I  know  my  inability  to  answer 
you  in  the  way  you  wish,  but  I  rejoice  in  an  oppor- 
tunity of  telling  you. what  my  thoughts  have  been 
and  still  are  in  respect  of  the  most  important  sub- 
lect  of  your  inquiry.  I  deeply  regret  that  a  false 
shame  has  hitherto  deterred  me  from  an  open 
avowal  of  my  sentiments  and  feelings.  I  will 
honestly  confess  to  you,  that  I  have  never  seriously 
considered  the  subject  of  the  ministry  till  within  the 
last  few  months.  Brought  up  from  my  infancy  with 
the  expectation  of  becoming  a  clergyman,  and  ac- 
customed as  I  have  been  to  think  and  speak  of  it 
as  my  future  profession,  I  have  been  little  aware  of 
the  difficulty,  and  have  not  sufficiently  considered 
the  responsibility  of  the  office  which  I  hoped  would 
one  day  be  mine.  You  know  how  mucht  his  pros- 
pect has  pleased  me  all  through  my  childhood.  I 
have  had  many  fears  and  alarms  about  my  sinful 
state,  but  they  soon  faded  away.  The  impression 
has  never  been  permanent  till  dear  little  Atherton 
died.  At  that  time  it  pleased  God  to  awaken  in  me 
a  deeper  sense  of  my  dangerous  condition,  and  I 
prayed  very  earnestly  that  God  would  pardon  my 
sins,  for  Christ  Jesus'  sake,  and  that  the  Holy  Spirit 
would  renew  my  heart.  Then  I  fell  into  another 
error,  for  I  began  to  trust  myself  instead  of  the 
Saviour.  1  thought  I  was  now  proof  against  tempta- 
tion, and  had  the  presumption  to  suppose  myself 
fit  for  the  ministry.  But  I  was  awfully  deceived. 
There  arose  soon  after  in  my  mind  many  doubts  of 


188  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

the  authenticity  of  the  Scriptures.  Wherever  I 
went,  or  whatever  I  was  doing,  these  doubts 
haunted  me.  I  found  that  I  could  not,  I  dared  not 
pray.  At  first  I  repulsed  these  suggestions  with 
horror,  but  they  gradually  laid  so  fast  hold  of  me, 
that  they  destroyed  all  my  peace.  When  engaged 
in  my  studies,  that  which  was  often  ascribed  to  idle- 
ness, was  really  occasioned  by  the  state  of  my 
mind,  which  was  so  perplexed  that  I  could  not  at- 
tend to  other  things ;  even  my  pleasures  were 
damped  by  uneasiness.  I  have  no  doubt  that  if  I 
had  been  in  some  situations,  I  should  have  become 
a  determined  infidel.  T  tremble,  dear  papa,  while 
I  write  thus  ;  and  when  1  look  back  and  think  of 
my  situation  at  that  time,  I  cannot  feel  sufficiently 
thankful  that  my  life  was  spared,  and  that  I  was 
not  cut  off  from  God  forever.  I  found  that  I  had 
trusted  in  my  own  strength,  that  I  had  neglected 
prayer,  and  while  I  continued  in  that  neglect^  I 
couM  not  reasonably  expect  the  removal  of  these 
distressing  searchings  of  heart.  It  was  with  some 
difficulty  I  could  bring  myself  on  my  knees  again. 
I  was  fearful  tliat  God  would  not  hear  me.  But  I 
read  the  Bible  for  encouragement,  and  I  found  it 
there.  By  continual  prayer  I  was  directed  to  the 
means  of  relief,  and  I  have  not  been  troubled  with 
one  more  doubt  since  that  time.  Indeed,  I  cannot 
but  believe  that  the  death  of  our  poor  little  Atherton 
was  blest  to  me.  It  affected  me  more  than  any 
conversation  or  other  event,  and  more  than  any  one 
knew ;  I  have  never  lost  the  impression. 

"Yet  I  cannot  feel  comfortable  in  becomino;   a 


CORRESPONDENCE    WITH    HIS    FATHER.  189 

minister  of  Christ  in  my  present  state  of  mind.  My 
conscience  would  be  uneasy,  if  I  presumed  to  fill 
an  office  whose  functions  are  so  far  above  my 
ability  or  piety ;  but  I  earnestly  pray  that  God 
may  give  me  such  a  measure  of  his  grace,  as  may 
in  some  degree  fit  me  to  become  an  unworthy,  but 
true  servant  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 

"  Having  now  freely  and  confidentially  told  you 
what  has  been  passing  in  my  mind,  I  lie  in  your 
hands,  and  trust  you  will  pardon  any  error  of 
expression  or  sentiment  which  may  appear  in  my 
letter,  and  that  you  will  correct  whatever  you  see 
wrong  in  me.  Receive,  my  dear  papa,  my  confi- 
dence, as  the  strongest  mark  of  affection  and  grati- 
tude which  can  be  given  by  your  affectionate,  but 
unworthy  son,  Wilberforce." 

I  have  no  documents  to  trace  the  progress  of  this 
interesting  boy,  during  an  interval  of  near  two 
years.  Able  and  pious  tutors  attended  to  his  im- 
provement in  literature,  and  by  their  conversation 
and  example,  aided  his  progress  in  religion  ;  which, 
though  still  of  a  reserved  character,  was  doubtless 
sincere  and  increasing. 

In  1823,  Mr.  Richmond  was  in  Glasgow,  from 
whence  he  wrote  to  his  son  as  follows : — 

"  My  very  dear  Wilberforce, 

"  I  am  very  glad  that  Hartwell  Home  proves  so 
acceptable  to  you.  "^  ^'  «  *  ^ 

I  cannot  express  my  anxieties  on  your  account, 
both  as  they  respect  your  Christian  principles,  and 


190  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

your  future  prospects  as  connected  with  the  minis- 
try. We  must  indeed  become  still  more  communi- 
cative and  confidential,  or  the  burden  on  my  heart 
will  become  heavier  than  I  can  bear.  It  has  long 
been  the  first  wish  of  my  mind,  that  you  should  be 
a  minister  of  the  gospel,  but  only,  and  entirely,  and 
unequivocally,  without  partiality,  and  without  hy- 
pocrisy, as  your  personal  character,  experience,  and 
determination  might  be  formed  on  a  serious,  afiec- 
tionate,  conscientious,  and  prayerful  foundation.  I 
want  to  see  my  loved  boy,  first  a  true  Christian, 
and  then  a  true  minister.  Oh  !  may  God  hear  my 
prayers  on  this  subject.  For  this  I  cry  day  and 
night — and  unworthy  as  I  am  of  such  a  blessing, 
yet  I  will  trust  him  for  it,  and  I  would  wrestle  like 
Jacob  until  I  attain  it.  But  you  must  wrestle  too, 
yea,  and  with  all  your  heart,  all  your  mind,  all 
your  soul,  and  all  your  strength.  You  must  study 
your  own  heart ;  you  should  not  only  study  the 
scriptures,  but  keep  in  reading  some  searching  ex- 
perimental book  as  a  bosom  companion.  A  love  of 
such  reading,  at  least  no  alienation  from  it,  proves 
a  useful  test  of  character.  4?:         #         ^         * 

I  am  glad  to  hear  you  give  yourself  more  regularly 
and  resolutely  to  study.  I  have  often  had  fears  of 
indolence  and  inactivity,  those  banes  of  all  progress, 
proficiency  and  hope.  I  shall  indeed  rejoice  to  find 
that  the  bonds  are  broken.  #         #         #  # 

Theology  itself,  important  as  are  its  themes  and 
communications,  sinks  into  mere  science  or  literary 
attainment,  unless  founded  upon,  and  accompanied 


CORRESPONDENCE     WITH    HIS    FATHER.  191 

by  a  devotional  and  aflfeotionate  application  of  its 
principles  to  the  soul. 

"  It  is  much  easier  to  be  a  divine  than  a  Chris- 
tian— an  ecclesiastic  than  a  pastor.  You  may  be 
little  aware  liow  much  more  truth  and  wisdom 
dwell  in  some  cottages  and  hearts  at  Turvey,  than 
in  many  a  house,  and  in  many  a  mind,  in  which 
superior  advantages  seem  to  prevail,  and  even  where 
real  religion  is  known  and  respected.  I  long  foi 
the  day  when  you  and  1  may  not  only  comfortably 
and  confidentially  converse  on  these  subjects — on 
things  which  belong  to  our  everlasting  peace,  our 
prospects  in  time  and  eternity — but  when  you  take 
such  a  share  in  my  private  parochial  intercourse 
with  the  parishioners,  as  may  leave  no  doubt  of 
your  being  one  with  us.  But  then  it  must  be  pre- 
viously manifest  that  you  are  consistent  and  in 
earnest,  and  that  you  have  not  only  put  away 
childish  follies  and  faults,  but  are  living,  and  not 
ashamed  to  live,  under  the  influence  of  higher  prin- 
ciples. I  want  you  to  aid  me  effectually  in  the 
instruction  of  poor  children,  in  visiting  the  sick,  in 
conversing  with  the  poor.  If  you  are  to  be  a  min- 
ister, you  should  now  commence  your  seven  years' 
apprenticeship  to  the  holy  office.  But  then  your 
conduct  must  be  uniform,  simple,  consistent.  The 
reproach  of  the  cross  must  in  some  measure  be  en- 
countered, and  the  love  of  Christ  in  the  heart  put 
to  some  satisfactory  test.  Think  of  these  things, 
and  write  to  me  about  them.  Let  me  have  the 
comfort  of  knowing  more  of  your  mind.  Our 
present  interval  of  separation   may  be  a  time  of 


192  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

much  salutary  communication.  I  would  say  in  the 
language  of  Solomon,  "  My  son,  give  me  thy 
heart ;"  but  first  give  it  to  God.  You  are  arrived 
at  an  age  when  many  dangerous  temptations  will 
assail  you,  and  you  will  be  put  to  the  proof  whether 
your  heart  is  right  with  God,  and  if  you  are  thrown 
upon  the  world  and  its  seductions,  more  than,  hap- 
pily, has  hitherto  been  needed  or  sought,  you  will 
find  indeed  tliat  it  lieth  in  wickedness,  multiplied, 
subtle,  and  appalling.  ]\Iay  you,  my  dear  son,  be 
preserved  in  your  youth,  and  when  old,  never  de- 
part from  the  way  in  which  you  have  been  trained. 

"  You  must  in  a  very  especial  manner  consider 
the  daily  influence  of  your  temper,  conduct,  and 
conversation  upon  your  brothers  and  sisters.  An 
elder  brother  is  usually  the  blessing  or  the  curse  of  a 
household.  You  never  knew,  or  will  know  what 
I  suffered  on  poor  Nugent's  account ;  but  God  has, 
I  trust,  in  mercy  overruled  for  eventual  good  what 
seemed  to  threaten  nought  but  evil.  May  the 
course  of  yo^ir  youth  be  very  different,  and  may 
you  contribute  to  heal  the  remains  of  former 
wounds  inflicted  on  my  parental  feelings. 

"  Write  soon,  for  letters  are  long  in  coming  to 
me.  Give  a  very  affectionate  message  to  my 
much-loved  parishioners,  and  do  assure  them  how 
closely  I  bear  them  on  my  heart's  remembrance. 
Love  to  all.  God  bless  you,  my  dear  children, 
yes,  God  bless  you  all.  There  is  a  certain  store 
of  love  in  this  house,  from  wdiich  is  drawn  a 
respectable  portion  to  be  conveyed  to  Turve3^ 
Take  it,  and  use  it  well.     Assemble  the  brother- 


CORRESPONDENCE    WITH    HIS    FATHER.  193 

hood  and  sisterhood,  and  kiss  them  in  their  succes- 
sion, telling  them  it  is  a  proxy  from  one  who  loves 
them  well  and  that  one  is  their  affectionate 
Father, 

''  Legh  Richmond." 

The  following  extract,  which  connects  this  cor- 
respondence, was  written  by  Wilberforce  to  his 
father  in  the  same  year,  and  during  the  same 
journey  to  Scotland. 

"  *  *  *  ^-^  I  have  thought  and  con- 
sidered a  great  deal  on  the  contents  of  your  last 
letter  ;  I  read  it,  I  assure  you,  with  many  tears, 
but  they  were  tears  of  love  to  you,  and  of  sorrow 
that  I  fell  so  far  short  of  your  wishes  and  reasonable 
expectations.  You  say  you  wish  me  first  to  be  a 
true  Christian,  and  then  a  true  minister ;  believe 
me,  when  I  say,  that  though  it  is  the  first,  the 
nearest  and  the  dearest  wish  of  my  heart,  I  would 
not  have  a  desire,  not  the  slightest  desire  of  enter- 
ing the  church  in  an  unfit  state  of  mind.  I  would 
rather  engage  in  the  meanest  occupation  of  life, 
than  be  a  disgrace  to  the  religion  of  Christ,  by 
entering  into  the  holy  profession  while  I  am  unfit 
for  it.  When  I  look  at  the  apostles  of  old,  and 
mark  how  full  they  were  of  love  to  Christ  and  their 
fellow-creatures  ;  or  when  I  look  to  good  men  of 
our  own  day  who  tread  in  their  steps,  I  shrink 
from  assuming  a  profession  for  which  I  cannot  but 
know  myself  most  unworthy.  I  am  conscious  of 
being  a  great  sinner,  and  I  seem  to  myself  utterly 

9 


194  FAMILY    PORTRAITURK. 

incompetent  to  be  more  than  a  humble  disciple  in 
the  church  of  God.  But  I  know  that  the  blood  of 
Jesus  Christ  cleanseth  from  all  sin,  and  his  Spirit 
can  enable  me,  sinful  as  I  am,  to  love  and  serve 
him.  I  have  much  to  be  thankful  for.  I  ought  to 
be  thankful  that  I  am  permitted  to  think  about 
these  things.  At  times  I  have  felt  very  happy  in 
prayer  and  reading  the  Scriptures.  My  joy  has 
been  such,  that  I  seemed  ready,  not  only  to  love 
God,  but  give  up  all  the  world  for  his  sake  ;  then 
again  the  cares  and  pleasures  of  life  have  laid  hold 
of  me  and  sunk  me  into  sorrow. 

''Pray  for  me,  my  dear  father,  that  my  wavermg' 
mind  may  be  fixed  in  the  paths  of  truth,  and  may 
choose  that  better  part,  which  when  once  obtained, 
shall  never  be  taken  away  from  me  ;  and  may  God 
direct  me  to  that  profession  of  life,  in  which  I  may 
most  promote  his  glory,  and  my  own  good,  and  that 
of  my  fellow-creatures." 

The  following  year  Wilberforce  was  attacked 
with  a  dangerous  illness,  which  terminated  in  his 
death. 

A  journey  to  Scotland  was  recommended,  with  a 

view  to  consult  Dr. ,  whose  method  of  treatino- 

pulmonary  disease  was  supposed  to  have  succeeded 
in  many  instances. 

Mr.  R.  engaged  a  small  cottage  at  Rothsay,  in 
the  Isle  of  Bute,  at  a  convenient  distance  from  this 
physician's  residence.  From  hence  he  made  fre- 
quent excursions  by  sea  and  land,  in  the  hope,  by  a 
change  of  scene  and  air,  to  check  the  progress  of 


LETTER    FROM    SCOTLAND.  195 

the  disorder.  It  appears  by  the  following  letter  to 
his  curate,  that  he  had  not  yet  despaired  of  his 
son's  recovery,  but  being  at  once  the  nurse,  the 
father,  and  the  spiritual  guide  of  his  dear  boy,  he 
was  making  every  effort  on  his  behalf,  and  dili- 
gently employing  the  means  prescribed  by  the 
physician. 

"  My  dear  Friend  and  Brother, 

"  If  the  date  of  this  letter  may  seem  to  betoken 
inattention  to  my  promise,  or  a  wrong  estimate  of 
your  valuable  services  during  my  absence  from 
home,  I  rely  on  your  friendship  and  candor  to 
ascribe  my  silence  to  other  causes.  I  liave  been 
almost  daily,  from  morning  to  night,  sailing  about 
with  my  dear  boy  upon  sea  and  river,  and  neither 
the  motion  of  the  steamboats,  nor  the  lassitude  felt 
at  night  after  such  voyages,  are  favorable  to  epis- 
tolary duties.  But  I  can  truly  say,  that  my  heart's 
best  prayers  and  recollections  have  been  with  you, 
and  this  poor  scrawl  is  meant  to  tell  you  so.  You 
well  know^  likewise  that  anxiety  within,  added  to 
external  causes,  will  easily  unhinge  the  energy  of 
the  mind,  and  produce  a  kind  of  constitutional 
incapacity  and  indisposition^  to  duty  itself.  But 
neither  let  my  friend  nor  my  flock  for  a  moment 
conceive  that  they  are  forgotten.  During  many  an 
hour,  as  I  have  been  floating  on  the  waves,  pacing 
the  mountains  and  glens,  admiring  the  islands  and 
the  rocks,  tracing  the  progress  of  sun  or  moon  upon 
the  ocean  or  landscape,  and  amidst  all,  fijj:ing  an 
anxious  and  affectionate  look  upon  our  dear  invalid 


196  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

as  he  sat  by  my  side ;  during  many  such  an  hour 
have  I  dwelt  with  solicitude  and  regard  on  the 
domestic  and  parochial  scenery  of  Turvey, — dear 
Turvey,  where  so  many  sweet  pledges,  both  of 
natural  and  spiritual  love,  reside, — where  my  pooi 
boy  was  born  and  trained  up  with  brothers  and 
sisters  no  less  loved  than  himself.  Our  intercourse 
and  conversations  under  existing  circumstances,  are 
deeply  interesting  to  me.  He  is  upon  the  whole  in 
cheerful  spirits,  and  the  air  of  this  delightful  island 
particularly  suits  him.  I  am  just  returned  from  a 
hill- walk  with  him,  of  a  mile  and  a  half,  and  have 
been  surprised  at  the  degree  of  strength  which  he 
evinced.  The  general  symptoms  are  just  now,  I 
think,  more  favorable.  Still  there  are  evident 
marks  of  deep-rooted  disease,  and  I  am  often  much 
perplexed  by  the  fluctuations  in  his  case.  It  is  one 
in  which  I  feel  it  wrong  either  to  encourage  over- 
sanguine  expectations  of  permanent  amendment,  or 
to  give  way  to  any  over-desponding  sensations  as 
to  the  result.  Happily,  he  is  without  pain,  and  in 
many  respects  he  enjoys  himself.  He  deliglits  in 
the  scenery  around  us,  whicli  is  in  the  highest 
degree  magnificent  and  beautiful.  He  enters  with 
his  wonted  taste  into  mineral  and  geological  exam- 
inations, and  wanders  gently  by  the  sea-side,  hunt- 
ing for  pebbles,  animals,  shells,  sea- weed,  &c.,  and 
I  wander  with  him.  Sometimes  a  little  exertion 
fatigues  him,  at  other  times  he  bears  considerably 
more  without  complaining.  He  has  been  a  thou- 
sand miles  on  the  water  since  we  left  London,  and 
sailing   always    agrees  with    him.     I    have    every 


LETTER    FROM    SCOTLAND.  197 

reason  to  be  satisfied  with  the  plan  we  are  pursu- 
ing. It  much  contribates  to  his  strength  and 
comfort,  and  peace  of  mind  ;  and,  to  say  the  least, 
has  checked  the  weakening  effects  of  the  disorder, 
and  mingled  encouragement  with  apprehensions 
which  might  otherwise  have  gained  daily  ground. 
He  is  evidently  thinking  very  seriously  and  rightly 
about  his  state,  and  our  Christian  conversation  forms 
no  small  part  of  my  comfort,  and  I  trust  I  may  add, 
of  his  comfort  also.  Whatever  may  be  God's  will, 
I  feel  satisfied  that  the  present  dispensation  is  prof- 
itable to  us  both.  May  he  confirm  and  increase 
our  hope.  I  am  much  gratified  by  the  accounts 
which  I  receive  of  your  very  auspicious  commence- 
ment of  ministerial  labors  at  Turvey,  and  beg  you 
to  feel  assured  of  the  value  I  put  on  them.  Go  on, 
my  dear  friend,  in  the  strength  of  the  Lord,  and 
may  you  pursue  the  arduous  career  of  holy  exertion, 
in  public  and  in  private,  to  your  own  comfort,  the 
glory  of  God,  and  the  good  of  my  dear  ilock.  Make 
known  how  affectionately  I  feel  towards  them, — 
how  earnestly  I  desire  their  prayers,  and  how 
sincerely  I  remember  them  in  mine.  My  not 
writing  to  them  at  an  earlier  period  has  arisen 
entirely  from  the  constant  occupation  and  anxiety 
which  have  monopolized  my  time  and  my  feelings. 
Wilberforce  thanks  you  for  your  kind  letter.  I 
hope  he  will  soon  feel  able  to  answer  it.  Dear 
boy ! — he  talks  with  hope  of  returning  to  Turvey 
with  amended  health  and  telling  you  in  person  how 
much  he  enjoyed  the  scenery  of  the  north.  Pray 
for  him  and  me,  that  wo  may  lay  in  oar  heavenly 


198  FAMILY    PORTRAITURl-:. 

Father's  bosom  like  children,  and  wait  his  pleasure 
like  believers.  You  will  not  forget  the  other  dear 
boys, — they  are  in  your  hands  for  good,  and  may 
God  bless  you  to  them  all.  Give  them  my  bless- 
ing, and  let  them  convey  it  to  all  at  the  Rectory. 
Believe  me, 

"  Yours  affectionately, 

"L.  R." 

.  Much  of  what  I  should  have  detailed  has  been 
introduced  into  the  memoir  of  Mr.  Richmond. 
Two  only  of  Wilberforce's  letters  remain;  the  first 
of  these  was  written  to  his  brother  H. 

"  My  dear  H., 

"  I  did  not  think,  when  I  parted  from  you,  that  I 
should  be  as  well  as  I  am,  for  I  feel  very  much  bet- 
ter. Sickness  and  separation  have  attached  me 
more  to  you,  and  to  my  home,  and  to  all  that  are 
in  it.  Sickness,  as  is  usual,  has  brought  sorrow 
for  its  companion,  but  I  trust  I  do  not  sorrow  as 
one  without  hope.  My  illness  has  proved  a  warn- 
ing to  me,  and  it  may  also  be  a  warning  to  you. 
You  saw  me  brought  down,  in  a  very  short  time, 
from  a  state  of  health  and  strength,  to  one  of 
weakness  and  debility  ;  and  all  our  natures  are 
alike,  equally  fragile,  equally  transient.  Un- 
certain is  every  tie  which  binds  us  to  life,  and 
therefore  it  is  my  prayer,  that  you,  no  less  than 
myself,  may  look  forward  to  our  latter  end,  and 
not  neglect  opportunities  of  attending  more  closely 
to  the  things  which  belong  to  our  everlasting  peace, 


wilberforce's  letters.  199 

and  guarding  against  the  increasing  fascinations  of 
a  world  that  lieth  in  wickedness.       *      *      #      » 

The  second  letter  was  a  reply  to  his  father's 
instructions  and  preparations  for  the  Lord's  Supper. 

*'  My  dear  Father, 

"  I  thank  you  for  the  kind  letter  you  wrote  to 
me  on  the  subject  of  the  sacrament.  I  could  not 
have  received  one  which  would  have  more  truly 
convinced  me  of  your  affection  and  desire  for  my 
spiritual  welfare.  Oh !  may  God  give  an  answer 
to  your  prayers  and  desires  on  my  behalf,  and  may 
you  see  me  walking  humbly  and  sincerely  in  that 
narrow  path  which  leads  to  life  eternal.  I  have 
thought  much  on  the  contents  of  your  letter,  and 
have  been  deeply  affected.  At  first  I  was  discour- 
aged by  a  sense  of  unworthiness,  and  shrunk  from 
the  thought  of  approaching  the  Lord's  table.  It 
then  struck  me,  that  even  if  I  had  not  attained  all 
I  desired,  I  might  still  venture  with  a  humble  and 
prayerful  spirit,  and  an  entire  dependence  on 
Christ.  I  thought,  also,  that  if  I  neglected  attend- 
ance, I  should  be  dishonoring  the  Saviour  by  a  re- 
fusal of  an  appointed  means  of  grace ;  and  I  do 
hope  that  by  presenting  myself  to  Christ  in  his  own 
ordinance,  I  may  be  confirmed  and  strengthened  in 
my  faith,  and  helped  on  to  fulfil  the  vows  made  at 
my  baptism,  and  fight  manfully  under  Christ's  ban- 
ner, against  the  world,  the  flesh,  and  the  devil.  I 
would,  then,  my  dear  Father,  put  on  the  garb  of 
humility,  and  go  and   kneel,  as  the  very  lowest  of 


200  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

his  disciples,  at  the  foot  of  the  cross  of  Jesns,  and 
commemorate  with  gratitude  his  cross  and  passion, 
his  glorious  resurrection  and  ascension, — on  the 
merit  of  which  alone  are  fixed  all  my  hopes  in  this 
world  and  the  next.  How  thankful  do  I  feel  that 
I  may  kneel  at  the  foot  of  the  cross.  Oh  !  where 
besides  could  I  wish  to  stretch  out  my  aching  limbs 
and  die. 

"  I  suppose  my  journey  wall  make  same  delay  in 
your  intentions,  but  if  I  return  with  renewed  health 
and  strength,  I  would  consider  that  in  receiving 
the  sacrament,  I  give  a  pledge  to  God  and  you,  to 
devote  myself,  soul  and  body,  to  the  promotion  of 
the  divine  glory.  But  if  I  should  not  return  in 
health,  and  if  it  should  seem  fit  to  the  Almighty 
to  shorten  my  life,  yet  if  he  will  renew  my  soul  by 
his  Holy  Spirit,  Oh  !  how  unspeakable  a  blessing 
to  wing  my  flight  from  sin  and  sorrow. 

"  If  I  were  certain  of  his  favor,  and  my  oAvn 
change  of  heart,  I  should  only  wish  to  see  my 
Saviour  face  to  face,  and  praise  and  love  him  for- 
ever. I  have  written  hastily,  but  as  long  as  I 
could  without  fatigue,  a  short,  but  I  assure  you  a 
sincere  letter. 


The  closing  scene  of  Wilberforce  will  be  detailed 
by  one  who  loved  him  dearly,  and  was  a  witness  of 
his  latter  moments.  Mr,  Richmond  had  desired 
his  daughter  to  note  down  the  events  and  conversa- 
tions of  the  sick  chamber,  and  he  refers  to  them  in 
the  following  letter. 


MR.  Richmond's  letter.  201 

"  My    DEARLY-LOVED    F., 

"  I  have  been  very  unwell  with  a  swelled  face, 
accompanied  by  high  fever  ;  and  though  better,  airi 
still  an  invalid  ;  but  this  illness  is  sent  for  some 
good  end  to  my  soul.  I  desire  to  investigate  that 
end  in  a  right  spirit.  The  fire  at  Turvey  has  done 
much  mischief,  and  is  indeed  a  general  calamity. 
I  wish  you  to  relieve  the  sufferers.  You  may  dis- 
tribute for  me  both  money  and  clothing.  I  shall  bo 
able  to  decide  better  on  my  return,  what  sum  to 
subscribe.  May  we  know  how  to  glorify  God  in 
the  fires. 

"  Poor !   although  her  evidences  were  faint 

I  thought  them  genuine.  I  have  seen  many  such 
cases,  and  despair  not.  God  often  permits  the  signs 
of  true  faith  to  appear  very  feeble,  when,  neverthe- 
less, the  soul  cleaves  to  the  Saviour,  in  the  midst  of 
many  causes  of  suspicion  and  perplexity.  Some 
are  saved,  '  yet  so  as  by  fire.'  Happy  they  who 
are  saved  at  ail. 

"  I  hope  you  have  a  long  manuscript  of  recollec- 
tions concerning  our  beloved  Wilberforce.  I  depend 
upon  it.  Employ  some  hours  in  preparing  for  me 
all  you  know  relative  to  that  eventful  period.  I 
still  shed  many  tears  in  the  remembrance  of  that 
dearly-loved  boy.  I  have  feelings  which  never  leave 
me  for  two  hours  together.  They  mingle  with 
all  my  cheerful,  and  all  my  pensive  moments.  ^  I 
have  particular  reasons  for  delaying  to  write  the 
memoir,  but  fully  intend  to  do  it. 

"  I  have  been  at  Cambridge.  The  recognition  of 
many  old  friends,  from  all  parts  of  England,  has 


202  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

much  interested  me.  Indeed,  associations  connected 
with  former  days,  have  quite  overpowered  me.  The 
older  I  grow,  the  more  acutely  I  feel  everything. 

"  Take  care  of  too  frequent  intercourse  with  the 
world.  I  write  with  a  heart  full  of  love,  but  I  must 
caution  you.  There  is  nothing  more  dangerous  to 
young  Christians^  than  indiscriminate  intercourse 
ivith  persons  of  no  religion.  It  is  far  more  likely 
that  we  should  receive  evil,  than  impart  good,  in 
such  society.  I  have  experienced  this  too  much  my- 
self on  many  occasions,  not  to  feel  it  keenly.  Pru- 
dence and  prayer  are  then  especially  needful ;  for 
we  may  more  easily  conform  to  the  world,  than 
bring  the  world  to  conform  to  us.  Happy  they  who 
have  the  least  to  do  with  it,  except  in  the  way  of 
absolute  duty  and  necessity.  I  often  reflect  with 
gratitude  on  the  blessing  which  God  has  given  to 
the  retired  habits  and  education  of  my  two  boys, 

"Vy — —  and  H ,  one  in  heaven  and  one  still  on 

earth.  To  their  seclusion  I  ascribe  their  simplicity 
and  happy  ignorance  of  many  evils.  Premature 
acquaintance  with  the  wickedness  of  the  world — 
(and  there  is  no  knowing  the  world  without  coming 
in  contact  with  its  wickedness) — has  ruined  thou- 
sands of  hopeful  young  men,  and  has  multiplied 
the  miseries  of  the  hopeless. 

"I  long  for  our  early  morning  readings.  Latin, 
Gireek,  and  Mathematics,  are  a  very  small  and  in- 
ferior part  of  learning,  particularly  for  the  Christian 
ministry.  While  heads  are  filling,  hearts  are  with- 
ering.    Give  my  aflectionate  love  to  dear ; 

next  to  my  own  boys  I  do  indeed  love  him.     I  long 


MR.  richmond'j^  letter.  203 

to  see  more  of  an  unreserved  and  experimental  com- 
munion between  him  and  H .  I  have  number- 
less feelings  about  their  intercourse  which  I  do  not 
utter,  and  yet  I  know  not  why ;  but  this  I  know, 
that  I  have  you  all  in  my  heart ;  but  that  heart 
will  soon  turn  to  dust.  There  is  a  better  heart 
in  heaven.  I  would  have  all  my  dear  children  en- 
closed in  it. 

"  Give  the  children  of  the  Sunday  School  a  new 
subject,  that  they  may  search  for  texts  to  prove  it. 

"  Farewell,  dearest  F .     I  lament  many 

things,  but  most  of  all  that  I  am  not  worthy  to  be 
called 

''Your  aftectionate  Father, 

''L.  R." 

Mr.  R.  was  evidently  ripening  for  heaven.  The 
tenderness,  the  deep  piety  of  his  loving  spirit,  the 
weanedness  of  his  heart  from  the  world,  and  his 
earnest  desire  to  transfuse  his  devout  feelings  unto 
the  minds  of  all  who  were  connected  with  him,  dis- 
cover an  assimilation  to  a  purer  region,  and  might 
have  prepared  us  to  expect  that  his  departure  was 
not  far  distant.  The  documents  to  which  he  al- 
ludes, are  contained  in  the  following  communica- 
tion, which  I  commend  to  the  serious  and  attentive 
perusal,  both  of  young  persons  and  their  parents. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Here  were  two  souls  knit  together  as  the  soul  of  one  man  ;  what  there  is  of 
present  separation  shall  be  but  for  a  little  while. — Howe. 


"  My  very  dear  F , 

"  In  compliance  with  your  request,  I  send  you 
the  chief  incidents  of  our  brother's  closing  scene ; 
his  conversations  with  my  dear  father,  and  other 
members  of  his  family,  and  a  few  of  the  letters 
which  were  written  during  that  mournful  period. 
You  may  rely  on  the  accuracy  of  the  whole.  My 
father  had  intended  to  have  published  a  memoir  of 
Wilberforce,  and  with  that  view  he  desired  me  to 
make  memoranda  of  what  passed  at  the  time.  He 
told  me,  more  than  once,  that  the  blessing  which 
seemed  to  attend  the  perusal  of  his  little  tracts,  en- 
couraged him  to  put  on  record  the  piety  of  his  son ; 
which  he  considered  to  be  no  less  honorable  to  God, 
and  consoling  and  strengthening  to  young  Chris- 
tians, than  that  of  the  Dairyman's  Daughter,  or  the 
Young  Cottager.  He  thought  that  Willy's  train- 
ing for  eternity  might  be  read  with  equal  advan- 
tage, and  might  assist  both  in  imparting  clear  views 
of  religion,  and  in  relieving  the  mind  from  the  fears 
and  anxieties  which  often  distress  and  harass  young 
Christians  in  the  prospect  of  death.  '  To  know 
that  others   have  been   perplexed  with   the  same 


THE    LATTER    DAYS    OF    WILBERFORCE.  205 

doubts,  alarmed  by  the  same  fears,  animated  by 
the  same  hopes,  comforted  by  the  same  promises, 
and  directed  by  the  same  precepts,'  he  used  to  say, 
'demonstrate  a  holy  identity  in  the  influence  of  the 
gospel  and  tlie  elFccts  produced  by  it,  and  may  com- 
fort the  trembling  sinner,  and  confirm  the  most  ad- 
vanced believer.' 

"  Tl^re  are  a  number  of  papers  m  my  father's 
hand-writing,  relating  to  my  brother's  character 
and  dying  hoars,  which  are  indeed  so  unconnected 
and  unfinished,  that  scarcely  any  use  can  now  be 
made  of  them  ;  but  they  show  how  interesting  a 
detail  the  memoir  would  have  been  in  his  hands. 
He  would  sit  for  hours  in  his  study,  perusing  and 
adding  to  these  fragments ;  but  the  excess  of  feel- 
ing and  mental  agitation  which  the  contemplation 
and  reminiscence  of  the  past  never  failed  to  renew, 
greatly  impaired  his  licalth,  and  forced  him  to  lay 
aside  his  purpose. 

''  In  one  of  the  papers  alluded  to,  we  found  the 
following  remarks  in  his  own  hand.  'I  have  never 
given  up  the  design  of  writing  his  memoir,  and 
every  day's  meditation  has  prepared  me  for  it.  But 
whenever  I  begin,  my  spirits  sink,  my  eyes  are 
full  of  tears,  and  I  lay  aside  my  papers  to  a  more 
convenient  season,  when  I  may  be  able  to  write 
with  more  calmness.     Alas  I  this  is  my  weakness.' 

"  Wilberforce  had  always  been  my  dear  father's 
companion  in  his  literary  and  philosophical  pursuits. 
From  his  childhood  his  chief  pleasures  and  recrea- 
tions were  in  the  study  ;  and  he  used  to  retire  to 
the  museum  to  make  experiments  with   the  air- 


206  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

pump,  or  electrical  machine,  or  read  some  book  of 
science,  while  the  other  boys  were  engaged  in  their 
sports.  As  he  advanced  in  years,  he  employed  his 
leisure  hours  more  especially  in  the  study  of  min- 
eralogy, and  geology.  This  congeniality  of  mind 
and  pursuit  contributed  to  form  the  strong  attach- 
ment w^hich  subsisted  betw^een  my  father  and  Wil- 
berforce,  and  indeed  rendered  the  one  almost  an 
integral  part  of  the  other.  My  dear  father  had  a 
peculiar  talent  for  connecting  science  w^ith  religion, 
and  Wilberforce  seemed  more  than  his  other  chil- 
dren to  afford  him  materials  for  successful  cultiva- 
tion. 

"  In  my  father's  miscellaneous  papers  we  find 
the  following  short  notes,  evidently  written  in  ref- 
erence to  the  projected  memoir.  'Early  intellectual 
conversation,  great  general  reading,  strong  turn  for 
reasoning  and  argument,  deep  and  close  investiga- 
tion of  philosophical  questions,  acquaintance  witli 
subjects  of  political  economy,  love  of  natural  history, 
insects,  mineralogy,  geology,  classics,  mathematics. 
My  wish  and  endeavor  has  been  to  cultivate  philo- 
sopliical  pursuits  in  connection  with  rehgion,  with 
my  children  as  recreations,  instead  of  allowing  and 
encouraging  the  trifling  and  often  pernicious  amuse- 
ments of  the  world.  I  have  found  my  plan  answer 
in  his  case.' 

"  Our  dear  father  has  succeeded  in  making  his 
home  dear  to  all  his  children.  Home  was  never 
talked  of  without  emotion  by  any  of  them.  They 
left  it  with  regret.  They  returned  to  it  with  the 
fondest    afiection,    and    connected    with    it    every 


THE    LATTER    DAYS    OF    WILBERFORCE,  207 

endearing  association.  No  patriot  Israelite  ever 
sang  of  the  place  of  his  nativity  with  more  enthu- 
siasm, '  Let  my  tongue  cleave  to  the  roof  of  my 
mouth,  if  I  prefer  not  Jerusalem  above  my  chief 
joy.'  Oar  beloved  parents'  integrity  and  uniform 
consistency  engaged  our  esteem,  and  the  multiplied 
resources  of  innocent  gratification  which  surrounded 
us,  won  our  regard. 

"  As  Wilberforce  gi'ew  up,  he  was  considered  by 
the  whole  family  as  the  one  marked  out  to  fill  his 
father's  place  in  the  church,  and  to  his  relatives. 
He  became  an  object  of  interest  to  all ;  and  to 
none  was  he  more  endeared  than  to  his  loving 
parent,  who  clung  to  him  with  deeper  affection 
each  succeeding  year. 

'^  In  the  spring  of  1824,  when  he  had  reached 
his  seventeenth  year,  we  were  first  alarmed  for  his 
health.  He  took  cold  from  a  wet  ride,  and  a  slight 
cough  succeeded.  One  morning  in  the  month  of 
May,  my  father  discovered  symptoms  of  his  having 
ruptured  a  blood-vessel.  His  fears  were  greatly 
awakened,  as  appears  from  a  note  in  his  papers. 
'  As  I  looked  on  him  that  morning,  I  felt  a  shock 
which  seemed  to  shatter  me  to  the  very  soul,  and  I 
have  never  recovered  it.'  In  a  short  time  Wilber- 
force's  appearance  was  considerably  altered,  and 
his  spirits  were  depressed. 

"  When  a  journey  to  Scotland  was  proposed, 
my  father  was  greatly  agitated,  the  more  so  be- 
cause it  was  impossible  that  at  that  time  he  should 
accompany  him,  and  he  dreaded  even  a  short  separ- 


208  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

ation  fj-oiii  his  beloved  child.     His  feelings  will  be 
best  shown  by  the  following  letter  : 

'''St.  Neots,  Monday  night. 
"  '  My  ever  dear  love, 

"  '  ^         '^         ^  No  one  knows,  or  ever  can 

know,  the  anxiety  which  I  have  felt  on  our  dear 
child's  account.     Little  as  it  may  have  been  per- 
ceived, I  have  been  inwardly  agitated  beyond  ex- 
pression, and  this  must  apologize  for  any  weakness 
or  inconsistency  of  which  I  have  been  guilty.     God 
only  knows  what   I  have  suffered.     I  have  been 
taken  by  surprise.     The  alarming  symptoms  in  the 
disease    of  our  beloved    child,    have    awakened    a 
thousand  feelings  and  fears.     I  have  reflected  on 
his  bodily,  but  much  more  acutely  on  his  spiritual 
estate.      I  have   been  unwilling  to  separate  from 
him  under  all  the  probable,   or   at  least  possible 
contingencies   of  the   disorder.     I   have   wept   and 
trembled.     I  have  mourned  over  my  past  deficien- 
cies towards  him.     I  have  had  my  hopes,  not  beino- 
ignorant  of  the  exercises  of  his  mind  for  years  past. 
Yet    I  have   had   my   fears,   lest   he  should   have 
fallen  from  his  first  love,  and  lest  his  literary  pur- 
suits   should    have  weaned   his    heart    from    God. 
For  more  than  a  year  past,  I  have  hourly  meditated 
on  the  course  of  his  education  and  preparation  for 
the  sacred  ministry.     He  has  been  the  star  of  my 
hopes,  the  source  of  my  anxieties.     I  have  antici- 
pated with    exquisite,  though   unuttered  joy  and 
hope,  his  entrance  on  the  glorious  work  of  preach- 
ing the  unsearchable  riches  of  Christ,  and  1  have 


LATTER    DAYS    OF    WILBERFORCE.  209 

also  been  full  of  anxiety  in  view  of  the  falls  and 
disappointments  which  yearly  occur  amidst  the 
contaminations  and  injurious  companionship  of  a 
college  career.  Yet  I  have  never  ceased  to  hope 
that  God  will  work  with  him  and  by  him.  My 
declining  years  have  been  cheered  by  associations 
connected  with  my  interesting  boy ;  but  the  Lord 
now  sees  good — and  blessed  be  his  name — to  hang 
a  dark  curtain  between  me  and  all  these  thoughts 
and  visions.  Hence  I  am  sometimes  fearful,  sad, 
and  heavy. 

"  '  I  see  fully  the  necessity  and  propriety  of  the 
proposed  journey,  but  I  doubt  his  strength  and  ability 
to  encounter  the  fatigue  and  trial  inseparable  from 
it.  Chiefly  I  dread  being  absent  from  him  when 
heart  and  strength  may  fail,  and  I  may  only  see 
him  again  sinking  into  the  grave,  unaided,  un- 
strengthened,  unblessed  by  his  affectionate  father. 
Did  I  but  know  more  of  his  mind,  I  might  possibly 
be  more  at  ease ;  but  his  reserve  withholds  from 
me  this  consolation.  1  have  made  a  gentle,  and  I 
hope  a  considerate  attempt  to  draw  him  out  by  a 
little  opening  discussion  of  the  sacrament.  I  start 
for  Cambridge  at  half-past  four  to-morrow.  The 
sight  of  that  place  will  most  acutely  remind  me  of 
the  past  as  it  relates  to  myself,  connected  with  the 
contingencies  of  the  future  as  it  may  concern  him. 
I  have  many  fears  mingled  with  the  hope  of  his 
recovery.  I  feel  very  anxious  from  day  to  day. 
May  God  overrule  all  these  things  for  the  good  of 
each  of  us.  Give  my  love  to  all,  and  an  especial 
blessing  to  Willy.        Your  affectionate      L.  R.' 


210  FAMILY    PORT K AIT URE. 

"  After  it  was  decided  that  my  brother  should  go 
to  Scotland,  we  were  advised  to  send  him  there  by 

a  sea-voyage,  in  company  with  Mr. .     His 

father  was  to  follow  him  in  a  few  days.  He  was 
much  depressed  at  this  time.  It  was  his  first  sep- 
aration from  the  paternal  roof,  and  his  mind  became 
deeply  affected  when  the  parting  hour  arrived,  and 
when  he  was  to  bid  farewell  to  his  beloved  mother, 
to  brothers  and  sisters,  to  domestics  and  neighbors, 
endeared  to  him  by  every  sweet  and  tender  tie  of 
youthful  affection ;  to  the  homo  of  his  infancy ;  to 
almost  every  person,  place,  and  thing,  with  which 
he  had  been  accustomed  to  associate  happiness  ;  the 
agitations  of  his  feelings  increased  the  w^eakness  of 
his  frame  ;  the  conflict  of  his  mind  was  visible  in  his 
countenance ;  he  looked  pale  and  languid ;  a  pain- 
ful contrast  to  the  usual  smile  which  played  on  his 
countenance.  On  the  morning  of  his  departure  he 
was  very  silent.  He  looked  on  us  all  as  we  stood 
around  him,  and  with  tears  in  his  eyes  he  stepped 
into  the  carriage.  During  the  interval  of  separation, 
my  father  corresponded  with  him,*  and  was  very 
earnest  to  draw  from  him  a  more  unreserved  com- 
munication, and  to  satisfy  himself  more  thoroughly 
of  the  reality  of  Wilberforce's  piety,  of  which  he 
entertained  some  doubts,  amidst  many  hopes :  but 
my  brother  avoided  the  inquiry  of  his  anxious  and 
distressed  parent.  The  voyage  agreed  well  with 
him.  In  the  course  of  a  fortnight  my  father  and  I 
followed  him  into  Scotland.  We  met  Willy  as  wo 
entered  the  Firth   of  Clyde  in  a  steamboat.     He 

*  See  letter  in  the  Memoirs,  pp.  5'21~528. 


LATTER    DAYS    OF    WlLBERFOKCE.  211 

looked  much  better ;  his  spirits  were  good,  and  the 
meeting  between  us  inspired  reciprocal  feelings  of 
hope  and  joy. 

''  For  a  while  Willy's  health  seemed  to  be  im- 
proved, but  we  soon  discovered  that  there  was  no 
material  amendment.  For  a  few  weeks  he  was 
buoyant  in  spirit,  and  apparently  restored ;  then 
the  hectic  fever  flushed  his  cheek,  he  grew  weaker, 
and  he  again  sunk  into  depression.  Our  dear  pa- 
rent, who  at  that  time  did  not  understand  the  hope- 
less nature  of  the  complaint,  watched  over  his 
wasting  child  amidst  intense  anxieties,  increased 
probably  by  the  uncertainty  of  the  issue  in  his  own 
mind.  It  was  not  a  temporary  separation  which 
alone  affected  him,  though  even  this  is  a  grief 
heavy  to  bear ;  but  the  least  apprehension  of  losing 
forever  one  we  love,  fills  the  soul  with  the  bitterest 
anguish.  It  is  impossible  to  be  sincere  yet  calm 
under  such  circumstances,  while  any  hope  remains, 
or  any  help  can  be  administered.  A  holy  violence 
of  feeling  and  effort,  best  discovers  the  integrity  of 
our  principles.  There  was  much  in  Wilberforce  to 
love  and  admire.  His  disposition  was  very  amiable. 
The  usual  results  of  a  religious  education  were  visi- 
ble in  him ;  he  showed  every  outward  respect  for 
religion  ;  strictly  observed  its  forms  and  duties,  and 
admitted  the  theory  of  doctrinal  truth  ;  but  this  did 
not  satisfy  our  dear  father.  He  knew  full  well  that 
it  was  very  possible  to  do  what  was  right  in  the 
sight  of  God  without  a  perfect  heart, — ^to  cleanse 
the  outside  of  the  platter,  or  beautify  the  sepulchre, 
while  all  within  might  be  impure  ;  inasmuch  as  the 


212  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

speculative  approval  of  truth  is  distinct  from  its 
sanctifying  influence.  Accustomed  as  our  parent 
had  been  to  contemplate  the  infinite  worth  of  an 
immortal  soul, — soul  in  this  instance  given  to  him 
by  God  to  train  for  eternity, — it  was  impossible 
that  he  should  feel  otherwise  than  intensely  anxious 
while  he  entertained  any  doubt  of  its  salvation.  It 
was  this  uncertainty  which  so  greatly  disturbed  his 
peace  and  injured  his  health.  Wilberforce  seemed 
shut  up  in  impenetrable  reserve  ;  he  shrank  from 
personal  conversation  on  religious  subjects,  though 
his  thoughtful  and  often  depressed  countenance  ex- 
hibited traces  of  inward  conflict,  and  need  of  help 
cUid  comfort.  He  afterwards  deeply  regretted  his 
silence,  and  said,  '  It  was  a  device  of  Satan  to  re- 
tard my  progress  in  vital  experimental  piety.'  Our 
dear  parent  carried  this  trouble  to  God,  and  'rolled 
his  sorrows  on  him'  who  alone  could  help  him.  For 
many  months  he  was  sorely  tried  on  this  point.  But 
God,  always  faithful  and  true,  heard  and  answered 
his  prayers  more  abundantly  than  he  could  ask  or 
think.  '  A  vehement  suitor  cannot  but  be  heard  of 
God,  whatsoever  he  asks ;  if  our  prayers  want  suc- 
cess, they  want  heart ;  their  blessing  is  according  to 
their  vigor. '^''  The  following  letters  were  written 
to  Mrs.  R.  about  this  period. 

"  '  My  dear  love, 

"  '  Here  we  are  in  something  like  an  earthly  par- 
adise, if  beauty,  sublimity,  and  diversity  of  scenery 
may  constitute  one.     The  air  is  most  salubrious, 

*  Bishop  Hall. 


LATTER    DAYS    OF    WILBERFORCE.  213 

the  rides  delightful.  I  am  glad  to  say  the  country 
agrees  well  with  Wilberforce,  who  is  stronger  and 
in  better  spirits  than  I  could  have  expected.  He 
varies  occasionally,  but  suffers  little  at  any  time. 
There  is  certainly  an  improvement.  The  northern 
experiment  has  so  far  answered  that  it  has  cheered 
his  spirits  and  afforded  him  recreation  and  change 
of  air.  I  have  frequent  hopes  of  his  amendment. 
We  have  therefore  reason  for  gratitude,  whatever 
may  be  the  inscrutable  designs  of  providence.  My 
mind  reposes  with  thankfulness  on  the  goodness  of 
God,  amidst  a  thousand  anxieties  respecting  my 
dear  boy.  We  are  constant  companions,  and  have 
much  Christian  intercourse  together.  Not  only 
do  prospect-scenery,  geology,  botany,  ships,  rocks, 
mountains,  braes,  and  ordinary  occurrences,  engage 
our  notice  :  I  have  much  satisfaction  in  seeing  how 
he  enjoys  these;  but  higher  things  are  not  forgotten. 
We  pass  daily  the  hour  after  breakfast  in  religious 
exercises.  We  are  taking  Mason's  admirable  trea- 
tise on  the  Lord's  Supper  as  a  kind  of  text-book. 
It  affords  me  an  opportunity  of  saying  what  I  wish 
to  him,  relative  to  his  own  personal  interest  in 
spiritual  matters.  I  trust  we  are  going  on  usefully 
and  prosperously.  I  think  I  am  in  my  right  place 
and  employment,  watchmg,  instructing,  nursing, 
and  giving  myself  wholly  to  the  comfort  of  my  boy 
under  his  infirmities  and  vicissitudes.  His  cough 
is  troublesome  twice  or  thrice  in  the  day.  He  pur- 
sues a  bracing  system,  and  a  generous  diet.  To 
what  extent  the  disease  may  be  preying  on  the  vi- 
tals, I  dare  not  conjecture.     His  present  state  and 


214  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

appearance  are  certainly  satisfactory,  but  the  com- 
plaint is  variable  and  flattering,  and  I  must  rejoice 
with  trembling.  Oh  !  for  a  quiet,  reconciled,  pa- 
tient, waiting  mind  I 

"  '  Our  present  beautiful  retreat  is  doing  me  good 
also,  and  I  need  it.  My  mind  and  nerves  have 
suffered  a  severe  shock.  I  am  conscious  of  the 
benefit  I  derive.  How  long  I  may  be  permitted  to 
enjoy  it  God  only  knows.  I  would  be  thankful, 
and  receive  grace  and  strength  for  the  future. 

"  '  The  weather  is  become  very  showery,  but  is 
pleasant  at  intervals.  These  are  days  which  affiord 
the  finest  mountain  effects,  and  in  this  part  of  the 
Western  Highlands  they  are  truly  grand.  We  had 
a  rolling  tumbling  voyage  to  Ardentenny.  Dr.  S. 
seemed  on  the  whole  pleased  with  the  appearance 
of  his  patient.     Dear  love  to  my  children.     Tell 

H we  are  surrounded  by  immense  trap  schis- 

tus,  and  red  sandstone  rocks,  with  great  variety 
of  form,  substance,  and  arrangement.  #  *  #  4^ 
Much  love  from  all ;  from  none  more  than  your 

'^'Legh.' 

"  '  My  dear  love, 

"  '  For  a  few  days  after  our  arrival  here,  Willy 
was  not  so  well.  The  last  three  days  we  spent 
much  on  the  water,  and  he  is  stronger  and  better 
for  it.  Dr.  S.  thinks  it  a  case  in  which  a  vigorous 
pursuit  of  his  bracing  system  may  prove  success- 
ful, though  he  speaks  with  caution.  The  worst 
symptoms  are,  the  shortness  of  breath  and  debility 
in  ascendinc?  stairs  and  short  hills.     But  if  the  tone 


LATTER    DAYS    OF    WILBERFORCE.  215 

of  the  system  can  be  raised,  these  symptoms  will 
diminish.  His  spirits  rise  and  fall  as  he  feels  better 
or  worse.  I  asked  Dr.  S.  what  proportion  of  cases 
had  recovered  under  his  treatment ; — he  replied, 
where  it  is  regularly  followed,  half.  Willy  rests 
much  on  the  hope  of  amendment,  and  generally 
replies  to  any  inquiry  after  his  health,  I  am  better 
I  never  leave  him  from  morning  to  night.  Dr.  S. 
is  about  five  hours'  sail  from  us.  We  spent  a 
pleasant  day    last    Thursday   with    him    in  Lord 

B 's  family. 

"  '  I  am  inwardly  struggUng  and  striving  to  be 
calm  and  reconciled  to  God's  will.  I  am  going 
through  depths  in  the  inward  meditation  of  my 
soul.  When  you  write  to  Wilberforce,  keep  in  full 
view  the  uncertainty  of  human  life,  even  without, 
much  more  with,  the  certainty  of  disease.  Patients 
like  dear  W.  are  full  of  stronger  emotions  and  dis- 
posed to  deeper  meditations,  as  disease  threatens  a 
nearer  approach  to  eternity.  General  sentiments 
and  feelings  are  more  easily  preserved  than  the 
special  application  of  them  to  a  particular  case. 
He  is  still  very  reserved  to  me,  yet  I  perceive  he 
reads,  and  I  think  meditates  on  important  subjects. 
I  find  it  a  delicate  and  a  difficult  matter  to  pre- 
serve the  right  balance  between  the  state  of  his 
spirits,  vascillating,  rising  and  falling  with  the 
state  of  his  disease,  and  a  reasonable  hope  which  is 
not  influenced  by  an  earthly  association.  En- 
deavor to  draw  out  his  sentiments  and  feehngs, 
and   desire    him   to   keep    a  letter  always  on  the 


216  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

stocks  for  you, — to  write  a  little,  day  by  day,  till 
the  sheet  be  full. 

"  '  So  you   saw   Lord    B 's  funeral    pass 

through  Bedford.  I  could  wish,  for  Christianity's 
sake,  that  its  open   and    acknowledged   adversary 

had   remained    in ,  where    alone  his  life   and 

conduct  seemed  to  have  been  doing  good.  To  this 
country  his  writings  will  be  a  lasting  bane,  and 
must  continue  to  injure  religion  so  long  as  infi- 
delity, blasphemy,  and  vice  can  obtain  circulation 
and  popularity,  when  clothed  and  armed  with  the 
splendor  of  great  genius  and  talent.  These  con- 
stitute the  real  objects  of  worship  with  many  who 
profess  to  be  Christians.  I  entertain  no  doubt  that 
the  adoration  of  an  intellectual  and  poetical  idol 
may  be  as  great  a  sin  as  falling  down  to  the 
golden  image  in  the  plains  of  Dura.  Alas  !  we 
have  seldom  seen  true  piety  and  true  poetry 
united  ;  but  genius  and  vice  have  been  too  often 
associated  in  the  annals  of  mankind.  We  have 
need  of  due  discrimination  in  our  estimate  of 
characters,  to  be  aware  of  the  dazzling  influence 
of  able  corrupters  and  destroyers  of  virtue. 

"  '  You  must  only  expect  in  general  a  few  lines 
from  me,  but  I  hope  enough  to  convince  you  how 
much  T  love  and  esteem  you.  Convey  to  the 
people    an    affectionate    pastoral    message.       The 

same  to  Mr. ;  cheer  and  encourage    him    in 

my  name.  To  my  dear  boys  and  girls  give  sweet 
messages  of  love  ;  and  for  yourself  accept  a  fra- 
grant nosegay  of  pretty  things  from  your  own 
affectionate,  Legh.' 


LATTER    DAYS    OF    WILBERFORCE.  217 

"  I  do  not  think  Willy  vras  fully  aware  of  his 
danger  at  this  time,  though  from  his  reserve  it  was 
difficult  to  ascertain  his  opinion  of  himself;  and 
his  physician  Vv^as  afraid  of  discouraging  him  by  a 
disclosure  of  his  real  situation,  as  he  considered  it 
of  importance  that  he  should  expect  recovery,  and 
cultivate  cheerfulness  of  temper.^ 

"  Willy  wrote  a  few  letters  during  his  residence 
at  Rothsay,  of  which  the  foUovv^ing  are  speci- 
mens : — 

^^'Dear , 

'• '  I  am  not  inattentive  or  indiflerent  to  the  kind 
.solicitude  you  have  expressed  for  me.  I  now  ex- 
perience what  I  have  only  heard  before,  that 
nothing  is  more  consolatory  in  sickness  than  to  be 
remembered  by  those  we  loved  in  health.  I  have 
been  very  unwell  since  I  saw  you,  and  I  once 
thought  I  must  have  given  up  my  former  enjoy- 
ments,   my  future  hopes  and    prospects,  even  the 

pleasure  of  seeing  dear  friends  such  as  you,  , 

and  all  I  held  most  dear  on  earth.  I  shall  never 
forget  the  pang  which  almost  broke  my  heart  at 
leaving  home,  when  I  saw  the  tops  of  the  houses, 
and  the  church,  and  the  fields,  and  the  trees  of  my 

*  Disease  and  the  methods  of  cure  lie  within  the  province  of  a 
medical  attendant,  and  under  certain  circumstances  it  may  not  be 
proper  to  interfere  with  him.  Yet  when  there  is  httle  or  no  reason- 
able expectation  of  recovery,  there  is  a  degree  of  cruelty  in  keep- 
ing up  a  delusion,  and  inducing  a  patient  to  delay  turning  to  God 
till  he  cannot  turn  in  his  bed.  It  is  unjustifiable  on  any  principle 
of  reason  or  revelation.  This  practice  maybe  traced  to  an  indiffer- 
ence to  religion,  or  an  ignorance  of  its  real  character. — Editor. 

10 


218  FAMILY    PORTKAI.TL'Rf:. 

native  village  disappear  from  my  sight.  I  thought, 
Perhaps  I  am  looking  for  the  last  time  on  the  scene 
of  my  earliest  recollections — my  fondest  and  dear- 
est enjoyments ; — but  it  was  a  moment  of  weak- 
ness, and  I  fear  it  was  mingled  with  a  feeling  of 
repining.  I  had  always  been  happy — too  happy; 
my  heart  was  satisfied  with  this  world,  but  God 
was  leading  me  by  a  path  I  know  not,  in  which  I 
should  find  more  certain  and  durable  enjoyment. 
I  needed  something  to  convince  me  of  the  empti- 
ness of  the  world,  and  to  lead  me  to  fix  my  affec- 
tions higher.  I  am  now  much  better  in  health. 
I  do  not  look  like  the  same  person,  and  I  hope  I 
am  not  presumptuous  in  anticipating  another  day 

with  you  as  happy  as  that  spent  at  W a  few 

months  ago.  Perhaps  you  will  think  it  a  common- 
place remark,  if  I  express  a  wish  for  your  company 
at  Rothsay.  The  situation  is  beautiful,  but  beau- 
tiful as  is  the  sea  stretched  now  before  us,  and  the 
mountains  and  little  romantic  islands  Vv'hich  sur- 
round us  on  all  sides,  need  I  say  how  much  more 
I  should  enjoy  their  beauty,  were  you  here  to  enjoy 

it  with  us  ?     I  am  glad  to  have  deiu" with 

me.  We  share  our  joys  together,  and  think  so 
much  alike  about  everj^thing.  To  have  been 
translated  so  suddenly  as  I  have  been,  from  our 
Oat  country  to  this  mountaiiious  region,  seems  like 
being  taken  to  fairy  land.  Neither  description  nor 
imagination  can  do  justice  to  Scottish  scenery  ; 
but  do  not  suppose  that  amidst  all  its  charms  I  have 
forgotten  England.  Oh  x\o  !  I  more  than  ever  love 
the  little  blue  hills  of  mv  native  country :  the    fer- 


LATTER    DAYS    OF    WILBERFORCE.  219 

tile  plains,  grassy  meadows,  waving  valleys,  and 
elegant  rusticity  of  the  cottages  in  which  we  so 
much  excel  the  hovels  of  Caledonia.  We  have 
here  fine  exhilarating  mountain  air,  but  the  nights 
are  cold  and  bleak.  I  long  to  enjoy  again  an 
Ens^lish  summer  evening^ — to  recline  as  I  have 
often  done  on  a  bank  warmed  by  the  setting  sun^ 
to  feel  the  balmy  breeze  which  wafts  the  fragrance 
of  the  flowers — to  listen  to  the  warbling  strain  of 
the  nightingale,  and  give  way  to  the  wanderings  of 
my  imagination,  which  gave  perhaps  a  delusive  yet 
fascinating  sensation  of  pleasure  to  the  fleeting 
moment. 

"  '  I  have  sailed  above  a  thousand  miles  on  the 
sea.     I  am  beginning  to  like  boisterous  weather, 
though  I  seldom  escape  the  consequences.     Adieu. 
'•  'Yours,  sincerely, 

'•'W.' 

"  About  this  time  my  father  began  to  prepare 
Wilberforce  to  receive  the  holy  sacrament  for  the 
first  time,  and  they  used  to  retire  together  every 
day  after  breakfast  during  our  stay  at  Rothsay. 
Willy  listened  to  instruction  with  respectful  silence, 
and  seeming  acquiescence  in  the  sentiments  laid 
before  him:  he  appeared  interested,  and  anxious  to 
be  received  into  full  communion  with  the  church  of 
God,  and  was  often  observed  to  be  in  deep  thought, 
and  sometimes  gi'eatly  depressed.  His  unwilling- 
ness, however,  to  free  communication  rather  in- 
creased, and  as  his  health  was  not  materially  im- 
proved, his  father's  anxiety  often  amounted  to  agony, 


220  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

and  he  could  not  conceal  the  mental  agitation  which 
afflicted  him.  He  continued  to  weep  and  pray  in 
secret  for  his  child's  confidence.  From  Wilberforce's 
conversations  at  a  later  period,  and  from  letters 
written  about  this  time,  unknown  to  his  father  till 
after  his  decease,  we  learnt  what  had  been  the  deep 
exercises  of  his  mind — that  he  was  then  earnestly 
seeking  the  knowledge  and  enjoyment  of  God — 
that  eternal  things  were  daily  subjects  of  his  con- 
templation and  inquiry,  and  that  he  also  suffered 
much  from  an  insurmountable  repugnance  to  make 
known  his  feelings,  his  wishes,  and  wants.  He 
told  us  afterwards,  that  though  he  suffered  more 
from  suffering  alone,  he  seemed  like  one  bound  with 
a  chain,  and  could  not  venture  to  lean  or  place  his 
confidence  on  any  human  help.  At  this  time  he 
wrote  as  follows  : — 

''  'Rothsay. 
*"My  dear  Mamma, 

'"I  was  beginning  to  write  to  you  when  your 
letter  arrived.  Very  many  thanks  to  yon  for  it. 
It  is  impossible  for  me  to  say  how  much  a  letter 
from  home  rejoices  and  relieves  me,  under  the  pecu- 
liar circumstances  by  which  I  am  separated  from 
it.  The  simplest  thing  which  happens  in  Turvey, 
becomes  to  me  an  object  of  interest. 

"  '  I  am  very  sorry  I  should  be  the  cause  of  anxi- 
ety to  you  or  to  any  one  I  love.  I  feel  this  thought 
more  than  any  pain  I  suffer  in  my  body.  Indeed, 
I  lament  our  separation  as  much  as  you  can  do. 
This  period  is  one  in  which  I  could  have  wished  we 


LATTER    DAYS    OF     WILBERFORCE.  221 

might  all  have  been  together,  but  things  do  not  fall 
out  as  we  would  have  thera,  and  it  is  best  for  us 
that  they  do  not.  I  wish  to  feel  resignation  in 
everything.  As  for  my  illness,  I  trust  I  receive  it 
at  the  hands  of  God,  and  most  firmly  believe  it 
to  be  the  greatest  mercy  he  ever  vouchsafed  me. 
My  heart  was  engrossed  by  this  world.  My  affec- 
tions were  not  set  on  things  above.  I  did  not 
sufficiently  feel  my  need  of  a  Saviour.  Christ  was 
not  my  beacon-star  to  direct  the  future  wanderings 
of  my  life,  but  I  looked  to  the  false  glare  of  human 
ambition,  w^hich  would  have  led  me  to  serve  myself 
rather  than  God  ;  now  I  have  discovered  the  worth- 
lessness  of  all  my  hopes  and  aims.  I  find  that  all 
I  have  hitherto  done  is  of  no  avail  in  sickness.  I 
have  seen  what  earthly  dependence  is, — when  the 
world  and  all  that  is  in  it  seems  about  to  be  hidden 
from  our  view  forever.  I  trust  also  I  have  known 
something  of  the  joy  arising  out  of  dependence  on 
Christ  in  the  moment  of  extremity.  I  would  ask 
God's  forgiveness  for  making  less  improvement  of 
his  '  loving  reproof  than  1    ought    to  have  done. 

Remember  me  to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  G .     I  hope  the 

school  is  going  on  prosperously.  T  wish  my  class 
to  be  told,  that  though  far  from  them,  I  have  not 
forgotten  them.  I  hope  they  are  regular  in  their 
attendance,  and  that  if  I  return,  I  shall  find  them 
all  much  improved.  Oh !  if  you  knew  how  very 
often  I  think  of  home.  I  did  not  know  till  now 
how  much  I  was  attached  to  Turvey.  I  shall  never 
forget  my  feelings  when  I  lost  sight  of  our  little 
village.     I  was  obliged  to  summon  up  every  weak 


222  FAMIJ.Y    PORTRAITURE. 

and  weary  faculty  to  prevent  my  quite  sinking  un- 
der the  removal  from  it.      *         *         ^         * 
''  'Your  affectionate  and  dutiful  son, 

"  '  Rothsay,  September. 
'' '  My  dear  Mamma, 

"'Many  thanks  for  your  affectionate  birth-day 
letter.  I  shall  always  recollect  my  last  birth-day, 
for  it  was  the  first  in  which  I  felt  melancholy.  In 
the  full  enjoyment  of  health  and  spirits,  surrounded 
by  all  I  most  loved,  and  by  the  companions  of  my 
boyhood,  those  days  were  wont  to  pass  away  more 
quickly  and  happily  than  any  other.  But  as  I 
sailed  pensively  down  the  waters  of  Loch-lomond 
on  the  20th  of  last  month,  a  day  dark  and  gloomy, 
and  in  unison  with  my  feelings,  I  felt  that  I  was 
no  longer  in  the  spot  where  I  had  spent  the  former 
anniversaries  with  those  who  shared  and  welcomed 
my  happiness.  Yet  I  solaced  the  desolation  of  feel- 
ing with  the  recollection,  that  though  absent,  there 
were  those  who  were  thinking  of  me,  and  of  this 
your  letter  convinced  me.  ^^         ^         -^         ^ 

We  spent  last  Sunday  at  Greenock  ;  a  day,  I  trust, 
ever  to  be  remembered  by  me,  for  on  that  day  I  was 
admitted  to  the  highest  Christian  privilege,  the  sa- 
crament of  the  body  and  blood  of  our  Saviour  Jesus 
Christ,  ordained  by  him  as  a  perpetual  remembrance 
of  his  precious  death  and  passion.  Oh  !  that  it  may 
be  to  me  a  sign  and  pledge  of  my  admission  to  the 
marriage  supper  of  the  Lamb  in  glory.  I  was  very 
much  affected,  and  should  have   been  quite  over- 


LATTER    DAYS    OF    WILBERFORCE.  223 

come  by  the  emotions  ol"  my  own  mind,  if  I  had 
not  felt  stronger  and  better  than  usual  on  that  day. 
Now  that  I  am  an  outward  member  of  the  visible 
church  of  Christ,  may  I  daily  prove  myself  to  be 
one  inwardly,  in  spirit  and  in  truth ;  and  whatever 
portion  of  life  God  is  pleased  to  allow  me,  I  would 
devote  it  to  his  service,  and  love  him  with  my  whole 
heart,  who  first  loved  me.  I  wish  another  summer 
was  at  hand,  instead  of  another  winter.  I  feel  a 
dread  of  the  winter.  There  is  already  an  autumnal 
feeling  here.  The  leaves  are  beginning  to  change 
their  lively  green  to  more  varied  hues.  Did  the 
fading  leaf  ever  remind  you  of  the  decay  of  a  Chris- 
tian in  this  world  ?  Like  the  early  tints  displayed 
by  the  unfolding  bud,  are  the  opening  dispositions 
of  a  young  Christian.  His  active  walk  and  conver- 
sation resemble  the  healthy  vigor  of  the  full  ma- 
tured foliage  and  fruit.  In  the  signs  of  withering 
decay  we  see  an  emblem  of  his  closing  scene,  v^^hen 
he  has  arrived  at  the  end  of  his  mortal  existence, 
and  sinks  into  a  temporary  suspension,  to  shoot 
forth  in  a  never-fading  spring  of  immortal  joys.' 

"  We  spent  the  months  of  July,  August  and 
September  in  the  Isle  of  Bute,  but  as  the  season 
advanced,  we  were  advised  to  return  home.  Ap- 
parently, there  was  little  improvement  in  Wilber- 
force'S  health.  Probably,  from  being  constantly 
with  him,  we  had  not  noticed  the  gradual,  yet  real 
increase  of  the  disorder.  He  certainly  considered 
himself  much  better,  and  entertained  hopes  of  re- 
covery, and  expressed  great  pleasure  in  returning 


224  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

to  Turvey.  We  passed  a  few  days,  on  ouv  way 
home,  with  some  dear  friends  in  Yorkshire,  with 
whom  our  father  left  us  while  he  went  to  preach  at 
Bradford.  His  great  anxiety  for  Willy's  eternal 
destiny  appears  by  an  interesting  letter  written  to 
him  at  this  time.* 

"  My  brother  arrived  at  Turvey  Rectory  the 
beginning  of  November,  and  was  restored  to  the 
quiet  and  peace  of  bis  own  family.  Six  weeks 
elapsed  with  little  or  no  alteration  in  his  appear- 
ance. In  a  letter  which  my  father  wrote  to  me  at 
this  tiiTje,  he  says, 

"  '  Dear  Willy  is  much  the  same.  I  wish  he  was 
more  confidential  and  communicative  as  to  the  real 
state  of  his  soul.  Oh  !  what  would  I  give  for  one 
voluntary  conversation  or  letter,  detailing  the  for- 
mer and  present  history  of  what  is  passing  in  his 
mind.  I  think  well  of  it,  and  I  hope  it  is  comfort- 
able ;  but  I  want  to  know  this  from  himself.  Many 
a  secret  tear  does  his  silence  cost  me.' 

"  It  was  during  the  six  months  following  his  re- 
turn from  Scotland,  that  poor  Willy's  soul  was  so 
severely  tried.  He  never  spoke  of  death,  but  he 
must  have  been  sensible  of  increasing  inward  de- 
cay. He  could  not  hide  from  himself  or  his  family 
the  depression  and  anxiety  of  his  spirit.  He  was 
much  alone,  and  when  he  returned  from  his  closet 
to  his  family,  the  signs  of  sorrow  and  the  traces  of 
some  deep  mental  condict  were  frequently  visible  in 
his  countenance.  The  Bible  was  scarcely  ever  out 
of  his  hand,  and  after  his  return  from  the  north,  he 

*  Sec  Memoir,  page  528. 


LATTER    DAY^    OF    VVILBERFORCE.  225 

seldom  took  up  any  other  book,  religious  or  liter- 
ary ;  which  was  the  more  remarkable,  as  his  chief 
occupation  and  delight  had  ever  been  in  reading 
authors  on  almost  all  subjects.  He  would  now  sit 
for  hours,  and  nearly  whole  days,  over  the  Bible,  ia 
deep  abstraction;  he  was  still  silent  to  all  about 
him,  and  it  was  sometimes  more  than  my  dear 
father  could  bear,  to  witness  the  increasing  uneasi- 
ness pf  his  mind,  and  the  sufferings  of  his  body. 
After  so  many  ineffectual  efforts  to  penetrate  the 
real  state  of  his  heart,  our  afflicted  parent  had  but 
one  resource — to  commit  his  child  to  God,  in  faith, 
and  under  the  pressure  of  his  agonized  feelings  to 
cry, '  Thou  hast  wounded  and  wilt  heal ;  hast  broken 
and  wilt  bind  up  again.'  The  following  letters  were, 
I  believe,  the  last  my  brother  wrote. 

''  '  Dear . 


"  '  I  am  afraid  that  you  will  conclude  that  our  trip 
to  the  north  has  cooled  our  affections,  and  frozen 
them  into  indifference  to  former  friendships.  You 
must  think  so  no  lonofer.  *  #  #  # 


#  #  ^ 


"  '  I  am  now  in  that  dear  home  which  has  some- 
times been  rendered  still  dearer  by  your  presence. 
I  reflect  on  those  hours  with  much  pleasure,  but  the 
remembrance  is  mingled  with  a  feeling  of  melan- 
choly. It  is  possible  they  may  return;  I  mean 
hours  of  the  same  delight :  yet  I  must  not  forget 
my  gradual  decline  for  the  last  six  months.  I  am 
now  in  a  state  in  which  a  slight  increase  of  disease 
might  prove  fatal ;  but  I  am  hoping,  always  hoping ; 

10* 


226  FAAnLY    PORTRAITURE. 

for  hope  is  a  symptom  of  my  disorder,  so  I  must 
hope.  I  am  no  longer  what  you  once  knew  me. 
The  glow  of  health  and  spirits  does  not  now  en- 
liven my  countenance,  which  looks,  I  believe, 
rather  sad  ;  yet  I  knov/  not  why  it  should  do  so, 
for  I  have  lost  only  that  which  endureth  for  a  mo- 
ment, and  if  I  obtain  that  which  endureth  forever, 
the  love  and  mercy  of  Christ,  surely  I  have  reason 
to  rejoice  in  the  exchange.  In  Christ,  and  Christ 
alone,  I  find  peace.  He  will  not  cast  me  away.  I 
have  thrown  myself,  as  an  unworthy  sinner,  at  the 
foot  of  the  cross,  and  there  in  peace  will  I  lay  my 
head,  and,  I  trust,  cheerfully  resign  my  breath  to 
him  wdio  gave  it.  I  used  once  to  love  the  rose  of 
all  the  flowers  the  best ;  but  now  it  has  left  me, 
and  I  turn  to  the  lily,  for  it  seems  to  betoken  my 
approach  to  a  world  of  purity — nor  have  1  any  wish 
for  life,  if  Christ  will  receive  one  so  unworthy. 
From  how  much  sin  and  temptation  shall  I  make 
my  escape  by  an  early  death,  and  quitting  these, 
enter  into  a  heaven  of  joy  where  there  is  no  more 
curse.  I  know  that  in  very  faithfulness  God  has 
afflicted  me ; — my  chief  sins  were  pride  and  ambi- 
tion, and  these  have  been  the  very  means,  at  least 
the  chief  cause  of  my  disease.  Proud  of  my  tal- 
ents, and  seeking  the  admiration  of  men,  I  neglected 
my  health  till  it  was  too  late  to  correct  the  error, 
and  now  my  dream  of  future  happiness  in  this 
world,  and  all  my  ambitious  hopes,  are  fled.  But  I 
would  not  exchange  the  humility  of  a  Christian  for 
the  phantom  at  which  I  formerly  grasped.  People 
tell  me  I  shall  recover.     There  may  be  hope,  but 


LATTER    DAYS    OF    WII.BRRFORCE.  227 

my  own  imjDression  is  to  the  contrary.     Pray  for 

me,  dear ,  and  let  a  tear  fall  for  the  sins  of 

"  '  Your  affectionate 

''  '  Jan,  4,  1825. 
"  'Many,  many  thanks,  dear  mamma,  for  your 
long  and  kind  letter.  I  know  you  love  me,  and 
think  of  me  while  you  are  absent ;  and  it  is  some 
little  consolation  for  your  absence,  and  yet  but 
little,  for  I  long  for  your  return  very,  very  much. 
The  house  is  dull  without  you,  and  I  am  dull;  for 
I  am  deprived  of  the  society  of  one  I  hold  most 
dear.  Do  come  as  soon  as  circumstances  will  per- 
mit. I  would  not  press  it,  mamma,  but  I  am  not 
nearly  so  well  as  when  you  left  me.  My  spirits 
are  weak,  and  my  appetite  almost  gone.  *  *  * 
I  am  glad  that  you  wrote  to  me  so  openly  and  can- 
didly on  the  subject  of  death.  I  feel  my  earthly 
tabernacle  fast  wearing  away,  and  every  day 
brings  more  occasion  for  solemn  thought  and  seri- 
ous reflection  ;  and  now,  dear  mamma,  having 
said  this,  I  know  you  will  be  very  anxious  to  hear 
something  about  the  state  of  my  mind.  Just  now 
it  is  most  unhappy.  The  thought  has  Ibrced  itself 
upon  me,  that  I  am  not  a  child  of  God,  but  have 
been  deceiving  myself  with  false  hopes.  My  breast 
heaving  with  anguish,  and  my  eyes  swollen  with 
tears  too  big  to  find  a  passage,  would  bear  witness 
to  the  agony  of  spirit  I  have  endured  this  day. 
But  I  have  cast  myself  at  the  feet  of  my  heavenly 
Father,  and  have  implored  him  by  his  mercy,  by 


228  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

the  love  which  led  him  to  send  a  Saviour  into  the 
world,  by  the  death  and  intercession  of  that  Saviour, 
by  the  encouragements  he  has  held  out  to  sinners 
to  come  unto  him,  and  hy  the  help  which  he  has 
promised  to  all  those  who  do  so  come — I  have  im- 
plored him  not  to  send  me  empty  away.  I  have 
not  yet  found  comfort,  but  am  looking  and  trust- 
ing. He  has  said,  Whom  I  love  I  chasten.  I  do 
do  hope  this  may  be  his  dealing  with  me,  and  if  so, 
I  shall  be  thankful  for  it.  Amidst  these  conflicts, 
I  see,  as  it  were,  a  light  glimmering  through  the 
darkness,  which  leads  me  on  in  hope.  Oh  ! 
mamma,  if  you  love  your  son,  join  your  prayers  to 
his,  that  this  light,  this  ray  of  hope,  may  increase, 
and  that  he  may  have  a  sure  and  certain  hope  of  a 
joyful  resurrection  to  eternal  life.  I  thank  you  for 
Miss  Jerram's  Memoir.  I  never  read  any  book 
with  more  interest.  She  had  exactly  the  same 
feelings  I  have,  but  God  removed  them  in  his  own 
good  time  ;  and  I  derive  a  hope  from  her  deliver- 
ance, that  I  shall  not  be  cast  away.  I  will  not  think 
it.  I  should  deny  his  word — his  promises.  Sorrow 
not,  Mamma,  that  I  must  leave  you,  we  shall  not  be 
long  separated.  Two  little  ones  are  gone  before  me, 
and  will  you  not  rejoice  that  God  has  been  so 
gracious  to  them  ?  They  knew  not  the  sin  and 
sorrow  of  the  world.  I  have  known  both,  and  I 
wish  to  encounter  no  more.  Not  one  prayer  have 
I  offered  up  for  life ;  but  I  have  said,  Lord  give  me 
a  converted  heart,  and  do  with  my  life  as  seemeth 
thee  best.  I  feel  no  desire  for  life.  Do  not  think  1 
want  affection.     The  thought  of  parting  with  you 


LATTER    DAYr«    OF     WlLBEllFORCE.  229 

all  is  more  than  I  can  well  bear,  but  God  will  give 
me  strength. 

"  'You  blame  yourself  for  not  having  talked  with 
me  on  religious  subjects.  I  am  sorry  to  say  you 
would  have  found  in  me  a  backwardness  wiiich  I 
was  never  able  to  overcome ;  but  now  if  you  were 
here  I  could  talk  most  confidentially  with  you. 
^  *  May  the  spirit  of  God  rest  upon  you. 
May  he  comfort  you  under  present  anxiety — may 
he  speak  to  your  heart  in  future  sorrows — may  you 
find  joy  in  all  your  tribulations,  and  an  earnest  of 
that  rest  which  is  prepared  for  the  people  of  God. 
I  am, 

'* '  Your  affectionate  W.' 

"  The  last  letter  my  brother  attempted  was  to 

Mr. ,  in  Scotland.     It  was  written  under  great 

debility,  and  was  left  very  unfinished. 

"  '  My  dear  brother, 

"  'Forgive  me  if  I  write  this  letter  in  a  very  dis- 
jointed style.  I  cannot  write  long  together,  and  it 
is  difficult  to  resume  thoughts  once  broken  in  then- 
connection.  Many  thanks  for  your  kind  letler. 
You  need  not  have  begun  with  excuses.  You  make 
me  anxious  to  have  you  with  me — I  want  to  un- 
burden my  heart  to  you.  I  wish  to  hear  a  voice  of 
comfort  from  you.  I  never  could  speak  freely  on 
these  subjects — I  am  sorry  you  found  me  so  back- 
ward to  religious  conversation,  but  I  could  not  sur- 
mount my  repugnance — I  found  it  impossible — I 
was  not  near  enough  to  death— I  had  not  known 


230  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

trials  and  conflicts  enough  to  overcome  my  reserve, 
and  induce  nn^  to  unbosom  my  thoughts  and  feel- 
ings. But  now  that  I  am  struggling  for  life,  now 
that  I  have  experienced  hours  of  mental  agony, 
which  might  often  have  been  alleviated  could  I  have 
opened  my  heart,  how  much  do  I  long  to  have  you 
near  me.  How  confidentially,  how  freely  would  I 
now  converse  with  you.' 

''  Hitherto  Willy's  decUne  had  been  so  gradual 
as  scarcely  to  be  observed  by  those  who  were  con- 
stantly about  him.  He  rode  on  horseback  daily, 
sat  much  with  my  father  in  the  study,  and  appeared 
to  his  family  nearly  as  usual,  except  that  an  in- 
creased anxiety  was  visible  in  his  countenance.  But 
early  in  January,  1825,  a  considerable  alteration 
was  apparent.  He  wasted  rapidly — death  was 
evidently  approaching.  We  were  taken  by  surprise, 
for  our  fears  had  been  lulled  asleep.  My  dear  father 
wrote  as  follows  : — 

"  '  My  dearest  F., 

'^  'As  I  think  more  uncertainty  hangs  over  the  day 
of  your  arrival  than  I  wish,  I  write  to  hasten  your 
return.  Dear  Willy  droops,  he  declines  fast.  He 
misses  you  much,  and  often  says  he  wants  you. 
Many  symptoms  increase  my  anxiety  about  him. 
He  is  much  weaker  within  the  last  few  days.  Come 
to  us  immediately.  We  want  another  nurse.  His 
breathing  is  with  difficulty  and  ])ain.  His  sleep  and 
appetite  fail — his  looks  are  pale  and  wan — his  whole 
frame  is  sinking — his  mind  seems  very  calm  and 


LATTER    DAYS    OF    AVILBERFORCE.  231 

composed,  but  he   still   says  nothing.     I   am   per- 
suaded that  a  great  deal  more  has  passed  within 
than  we  know  of,  and  that  of  an  excellent  kind. 
Peace  and  grace  be  with  him  and  you,  and  with 
'' '  Your  affectionate  father, 

" '  L.  R.' 

"  '  P.  S. — Since  I  wrote  the  above,  I  have  had  a 
very  long,  free,  unreserved  conversation  with  our 
dear  boy,  most  affectionate,  and  affecting,  and  close 
to  the  great  point.  It  is  an  immense  relief  to  my 
mind.  He  is  to  me  an  interesting  mixture  of  anx- 
iety and  hope.  His  language  sometimes  resembles 
that  of  your  own  letter ;  at  other  times  he  can  trust 
more.  Oh !  that  I  might  see  both  my  beloved  chil- 
dren, yea,  all  of  them,  living  by  faith  on  the  Son 
of  God.  By  grace  are  ye  saved,  through  faith,  and 
that  not  of  yourselves,  it  is  the  gift  of  God. 

^'  '  Willy's  most  distressing  symptom  is  a  kind  of 
suffocating  feeling.  We  know  not  what  this  may 
produce.  You  will  not  be  surprised  at  my  distress. 
Do  not  wait  for  an  escort,  but  trust  providence  for 
a  safe  journey  home. 

"  '  (Tuesday.) 
'' '  You  will  be  anxious  to  hear  how  the  dear  boy 
is  to-day.  He  is  extremely  ill  in  body,  and  exceed- 
ingly well  in  mind — in  a  peculiarly  holy  frame.  He 
slept  a  little  in  the  arm-chair  last  night,  but  his  de- 
cay is  rapid.  He  wishes  to  talk  with  you  on  many 
subjects.  I  hope  he  may  have  strength  at  intervals 
to  do  so.     His  conversations  with  me  have  been 


232  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

most  valuable  and  interesting :  praised  be  God  !  1 
am  so  comforted  by  my  dear  boy's  unreserved  com- 
munications, that  I  frequently  forget  the  pain  of 
parting.  Who  could  be  so  selfish  as  to  wish  to  stop 
his  journey  to  heaven  ?  Yet  how  trying  to  nature 
is  the  idea  of  parting  with  him !  Well,  under  every 
bereavement  and  separation  from  others,  forget  not, 

my  dear  F ,  the  use  you  may  always  make  of 

your  father  who  loves  you.     You  also  have  been  too 
reserved  towards  him,  for  he  is  indeed  and  indeed, 
"  'Your  own  affectionate  parent, 

'''L.  R.' 

''  My  mother  was  still  at  B ,  to  which  place 

she  had  been  summoned  to  attend  the  dying  bed  of 
her  own  parent,  and  my  father  wrote  to  beg  her  re- 
turn. 

"  'My  dear  love, 

"  '  Our  dear  Willy's  weakness  has  increased  with 
such  unexpected  rapidity  within  the  last  three  days, 
that  I  wish  you  to  return  home  immediately.  He 
is  exceedingly  anxious  that  you  should  not  delay  an 
hour  in  coming  to  him.  Amidst  my  great  anxieties, 
I  have  the  pleasure  of  telling  you  that  the  spell  of 
silence  is  happily  broken  between  us,  and  he  has 
opened  his  whole  heart  to  me.  He  is  in  a  very 
anxious  but  hopeful  frame  of  mind.  By  our  mutual 
conversation  of  yesterday  and  to-day  I  am  relieved 
from  a  heavy  burden.  All  the  nameless  pangs  of 
my  mind,  during  the  last  eight  months,  have  been 
almost  blotted  out  of  my  remembrance  by  my  pres- 


LATTER    DAYS    OF    WILBKRFORCE.  233 

ent  consolations.  My  prayers  are  answered  at  last, 
the  door  of  utterance  is  opened,  and  I  am  truly 
thankful.  Your  mind  as  well  as  mine  has  long 
anticipated  the  probable  result  of  this  sickness. 
We  must  go  to  the  strong  hold  for  help,  and  we 
shall  not  fail  to  find  it.  I  am  staying  from  church 
to  enjoy  a  Sabbath  with  our  dear  boy ;  he  has  had 
a  very  bad  night,  chiefly  in  the  arm-chair,  the  fever 
has  been  excessively  high,  and  the  pulse  at  the  ut- 
most. But  take  comfort  from  the  state  of  his  mind. 
It  is  truly  interesting.  All  its  natural  superiority 
mingles  with  its  spiritual  characteristics.  He  that 
once  comforted  you  in  your  own  dangerous  sickness 
will  comfort  you  in  the  distress  of  your  soul.  Let 
us  trust  God  in  overruling?  all  for  the  best.  When 
not  oppressed  by  debility  and  pain,  Willy's  counte- 
nance beams  with  sweet  smiles  of  composure  and 
love.  He  often  inquires  when  you  may  be  ex- 
pected. ^  ^  ^  Q[  my  other  feelings  I  can  say 
but  little.  No  one  but  God  knows  all  that  has 
passed  in  my  heart  for  more  than  eight  months,  I 
may  say  years,  concerning  Wllberforce,  but  God  is 
good  and  gracious. 

"  '  Most  affectionately  yours, 

'^'L.  R.' 

"  All  reserve  was  now  banished  from  my  brother's 
mind.  He  opened  his  whole  heart  to  his  father, 
told  him  minutely  of  all  his  past  conflicts,  spoke  of 
his  present  comforts,  and  begged  that  he  might  be 
closely  examined.  He  wished  to  satisfy  his  parent 
and  pastor  that  his  faith  was  scriptural  and  sincere. 


234  iwMii.v   I'dKriLvrrmn:. 

He  sccnuul  tu  gi)  bcyoiul  his  .sircn^lh  in  (V)iiV(M'siiig, 
oven  to  extreme  oxlianstioii,  .iiul  Mppciircil  very 
anxions  to  tell  how  (lod  had  cnlighlciicd,  converted, 
istrengthened  and  coinrorlcHl  liiin.  He  would  sit  for 
hours  with  his  dear  Tat  her  in  the  sludy,  supported 
in  an  easy  ehair,  telling  liiin  ail  he  had  gone  through, 
entreating  his  ))ardon  lor  the  uneaf^iness  he  had 
occasioned  hini  hy  hi>^  past  silence,  and  expressing 
his  great  joy  at  now  bciii!^-  ahle  to  converse  with 
freedom,  and  mingle  Iheir  souls  logdlier  in  the  de- 
liglitful  interchange!  of  eonJid(Mie(\  It  was  now 
that  our  beloved  fallitM-  was  indeed  eoinlorted,  and 
that  he  received  a  full  answer  to  patient  prayer. 
Kdilied,  refreshed  and  sooth(;d  by  the  holy  lan- 
guage of  his  child,  his  mind  was  supported  under 
the  expected  and  long-tlri!aded  });mg  of  ])arting. 
These  conversations,  which  wen;  continued  until 
increasing  weakness  rendered  them  impossible,  in- 
duced my  father  to  form  tlu;  resolution  of  writing 
a  memoir  of  Wilberforce,  the  imperlcct  outline  of 
which  is  all  that  is  left  to  us.  T  have  often  heard 
my  father  and  brother  give  the  same  opinion  of  the 
reserve  which  occasioned  so  much  pain  on  both  sides, 
and  to  which  iVcMpient  allusion  has  been  made. 
They  considered  it  as  CJod's  way  of  dealing  Avith  a 
peculiar  state  of  mind — intended  to  luunble  the 
jiride  of  the  understanding,  juid  silence  a  love  of 
argument.  It  was  the  Holy  Spirit,  as  a  sovereign, 
conv(M-ting  without  human  agency.  Wilberforce 
said,  that  lor  mor(;  than  three  months  he  had  never 
looked  into  any  book  but  the  Bible  ;  that  (iod's 
word  had  been  his  only  study,  and   that  amidst  all 


LATVlAi     IJAVS    (Jl'     WII.HKRFORCE.  235 

liis  jj.nxic1:y,  ofu^i  atrifnintiiig  to  fi<4ony  ol"  irjind,  he 
could  find  no  relief,  either  from  religious  booUs  or 
religious  conversation  ;  but  was  obliged  to  go  to  the 
Bible  for  everything  he  wanted  to  know: — that 
whenever  he  opened  the  Bible,  he  turned  verse  af- 
ter verse  into  prayer  as  he  read,  and  that  in  so  do- 
ing he  felt  a  force,  a  sweetness  and  consolation  pas- 
sing all  understanding — that  though  he  knew  he 
had  a  father  who  loved  biro  tenderly,  and  was  so 
able  and  willing  to  instruct  him  and  remove  his 
perplexities,  he  felt  himself  as  one  who  was  spell- 
bound, and  could  not  break  silence — and  so  he  re- 
tired to  his  solitary  chamber  to  weep  and  struggle 
on  in  darkness — until  the  Holy  Spirit  became  his 
teacher,  showing  him  the  piercing  spirituality  of  a 
perfect  law ;  amidst  conviction  and  terror  of  con- 
science, leading  him  to  the  cross  to  seek  for  mercy 
through  him  that  was  crucified  upon  it;  and  en- 
abling him  to  receive  the  promises  of  free  salvation 
in  Christ  by  his  blood  and  righteousness  unto  justi- 
fication. I  have  built,  he  would  say,  all  my  hopes 
for  eternity  on  God's  word,  which  is  unerring  truth. 
I  have  found  peace  there,  and  have  been  sealed  by 
the  Spirit  which  indited  that  word,  an  earnest  of 
the  heavenly  inheritance.  It  was  without  human 
aid,  that  I  might  give  God  the  glory. 

"  I  have  mentioned  to  you  some  interesting  con- 
versations which  passed  at  at  this  time  between 
Wilberforce  and  my  dear  father.  The  following 
paper  in  my  father's  hand-writing,  is  the  only  one 
sufficiently  connected  for  insertion  : — 

''  Subject^  of  conversation  with  me  on  f/'riday. — 


236  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

Warburton  —  examination  of  evidence  —  acknowl- 
edgment of  errors — God's  reasons  for  taking  him 
away  from  the  ministry — prayer — Christ's  love — 
God's  way  of  humbling  joride — infidel  temptations 
— on  mere  educational  religion — his  secret  conflict 
for  four  years  past,  between  love  of  science  and 
love  of  religion. 

"On  Saturday  he  expressed  a  wish  to  see  our 
family  surgeon ;  '  Not,'  said  he,  '  that  I  want 
medicine,  which  will  do  me  no  good,  but  I  wish  for 
his  opinion  of  the  progress  of  the  disorder  ;  it  will 
be  a  great  satisfaction  to  me  to  know,  precisely, 
how  long  he  thinks  I  may  live.  My  strength  fails, 
yet  the  symptoms  vary  very  much.'  The  surgeon 
arrived  in  the  evening.  Willy  conversed  freely 
with  him,  and  begged  him  to  be  open  and  (explicit. 

Mr. saw  clearly  that  he  was  now  in  the  last 

stage  of  consumption,  and  he  was  surprised  at  the 
cheerful  and  unembarrassed  manner  with  which  he 
discoursed  on  *his  present  situation.  I  left  them 
together  for  a  few  minutes.  On  my  re-entering 
the  room,  I  was  struck  with  his  countenance,  which 
presented  a  mixture  of  calm  and  lively  satisfaction, 
as  he  was  conversing  with  his  medical  attendant, 
who  on  his  return  to  the  family  spoke  with  great 
feeling  of  his  patient.  He  said,  '  The  danger  is 
imminent,  though  it  is  impossible  to  say  how  long 
he  may  remain,'  and  added,  '  I  have  scarcely  ever 
witnessed  so  much  cheerfulness  and  composure  in 
any  one  in  the  prospect  of  deatii ;  certainly  never 
in  so  young  a  person.'  «  #  *  #  * 
I   returned  to  my  son,   who  said  that  Mr. 's 


CONVERSATIONS    WITH    HIS    FATHER.  237 

visit  had  afforded  much  relief  to  his  feelings.  '  I 
see  what  he  thinks  of  my  case,  and.  it  was  right  I 
should  know  it.'  There  was  a  union  of  thought- 
fulness  and  serenity  in  his  manner  which  affected 
me  exceedingly,  but  it  filled  me  with  gratitude 
and  thankfulness  to  \vitness  in  this  well-ordered 
and  cairn  state  of  mind  an  evidence  of  God's  work, 
and  of  a  divine  change.  He  observed,  'I  have  no 
expectation  of  any  advantage  from  medicine,  but 
it  may  palliate  distressing  symptoms.  The  great 
Physician  alone  will  regulate  all  for  the  best,  both 
for  body  and  soul.  Oh  !  I  w\ant  to  trust  him  more 
and  more !' 

"  In  the  evening,  as  we  were  sitting  alone  in  the 
study,  I  asked  him  whether  he  had  read  the  book 
I  had  put  into  his  hands,  and  w^hether  he  had  found 
its  contents  satisfactory.  Instead  of  giving  any 
direct  reply  to  this  question,  he  looked  at  me  with 
an  earnest  expression  of  countenance,  and  said, 
'  Papa,  do  not  be  afraid  ;  I  wish  you  to  examine 
me.  I  am  anxious  neither  to  deceive,  nor  be  de- 
ceived in  respect  to  my  spiritual  estate.  You  can- 
not be  too  plain  with  me.'  I  had  been  for  a  long 
time  past  earnestly  longing  for  a  fall  disclosure  of 
his  thoughts,  but  his  reserve  had  hitherto  kept  me 
from  all  knowledge  of  his  real  state.  In  answer 
to  questions  of  a  personal  nature,  he  would  only 
reply,  '  I  hardly  know  what  to  say  ;  another  time  I 
may  tell  better.'  On  religious  subjects  in  general 
he  never  refused  to  converse  freely,  but  he  shrunk 
from  every  attempt  at  personal  application.  I 
was  therefore  delighted  when  he  thus   voluntarily 


238  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

afforded  me  an  opportunity  of  knowing  the  secret 
state  of  his  mind,  for  which  I  had  long  and  most 
anxiously  prayed.  I  told  him  how  much  I  had 
wished  to  gain  his  confidence,  and  feared  I  had  not 
urged  him  to  freedom  of  intercourse  with  sufficient 
earnestness.  '  Indeed,  papa,'  he  said,  '  the  fault 
was  not  yours.  I  have  felt  a  backwardness,  par- 
ticularly of  late,  to  disclose  what  was  passing  in 
my  mind,  and  had  you  pressed  me  more  than  you 
have  done  to  speak  of  myself,  I  believe  you  would 
have  failed  to  have  obtained  your  object.  But  now 
I  feel  quite  at  liberty  to  talk  of  myself ;  and  I  first 
tell  you  that  I  think  I  see  God's  design  in  keeping 
me  thus  shut  up  from  you.  It  was  his  gracious 
purpose  to  teach  me,  in  the  privacy  and  solitude  of 
inward  meditation,  my  state  as  a  sinner,  and  the 
nature  of  salvation  by  a  Saviour ;  here  I  learnt 
the  deep  things  of  God,  and  now  I  would  come 
forth  and  tell  you  wdiat  Christ  has  done  for  my 
soul.'  His  countenance  brightened  as  he  uttered 
these  words ;  a  tear  dropped  from  his  cheek,  and 
his  eye  glistened  with  animation,  as  he  said,  'I 
have  had  great  exercises  of  mind  of  late,  but  God 
has  been  very  merciful  to  me  in  the  midst  of 
them.' 

"  And  what,  said  I,  are  your  present  feelings, 
my  dear  boy  ?  '  I  feel,  papa,'  he  replied,  '  more 
hope  than  joy.  I  have  read  of  ecstacies  in  the 
view  of  dying,  which  others  have  experienced,  and 
to  which  I  am  still  a  stranger  ;  but  T  have  a  hope 
founded  on  the  word  of  God,  which  cheers  and 
supports  me.     I  know  in  whom  I  have    trusted, 


CONVERSATIONS    WITH    HIS    FATHER.  239 

and  I  believe  he  will  neither  leave  nor  forsake  me. 
1  am  not  afraid  of  death  ;  but  as  I  think  my  time 
will  not  be  long,  I  wish  to  put  myself  first  into  the 
Lord's  hand  and  then  into  yours,  that  you  may 
search  and  try  me,  whether  I  am  in  any  error.' 
Such  an  important  moment  was  not  to  be  neglected. 
I  received  my  child's  confidence  as  an  answer  to 
many  an  anxious  and  earnest  prayer  which  I  had 
oiiered  up  to  God,  and  I  resolved  to  use  it,  as 
affording  an  opportunity  of  peculiar  interest  to  us 
both.  Satisfied  as  I  had  long  been  with  the 
general  view  of  his  religious  and  moral  character, 
strengthened  by  a  discovery  of  many  evidences  of 
inward  principle,  still,  when  I  considered  the  near 
approach  of  death  and  eternity — the  value  of  an 
immortal  soul — the  danger  of  spiritual  delusion, 
and  my  own  immeasurable  responsibility  as  a 
parent,  I  resolved  to  leave  nothing  unsaid  or  un- 
tried which  would  bring  our  hearts  into  mutual 
repose  on  the  great  subject  of  salvation,  and  my 
dear  child's  personal  interest  therein. 

"  I  found  his  mind  perfectly  clear  as  to  the  great 
principle  of  his  acceptance  with  God,  solely  and 
unequivocally  through  the  death  and  righteousness 
C'f  Christ.  In  the  most  simple  and  satisfactory 
manner  he  renounced  all  dependence  upon  every 
word  and  deed  of  his  own.  '  It  is,'  said  he,  '  as  a 
guilty  sinner  before  God  that  I  throw  myself  on 
his  mercy.  I  have  no  excuse  to  offer  for  myself, 
no  plea  to  put  in  why  God  should  not  utterly  de- 
stroy me,  but  that  Jesus  died  to  save,  to  pardon, 
and  to  bless  me.     It    is  his  free   gift,  and    not   my 


240  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

deserving.  Oh  !  papa,  what  would  become  of  me 
if  salvation  was  by  works?  What  have  I  ever  done, 
and  above  all,  what  in  my  present  state  could  I 
now  do,  to  merit  anything  at  his  hands  ?  God 
forbid  that  I  should  rest  on  such  a  flimsy,  fallacious 
system  of  divinity,  as  that  which  ascribes  merit  to 
men.  I  have  no  merit.  T  can  have  none.  I  have 
long  known  this.  I  fear  many  trust  in  themselves, 
and  thus  rob  Christ  of  his  glory.  Is  not  this  true 
papa  ?' 

"Yes,  my  dear  Wilberforce,  many  do  deceive 
themselves,  and  build  for  eternity  on  a  wrong  foun- 
dation. But  I  have  endeavored  to  impress  on  your 
mind  from  your  childhood,  that  salvation  by  grace, 
an  1  not  of  works,  is  the  peculiar  feature  of  the 
gospel  of  Christ ;  and  do  you  not  now  see  that  this 
is  the  doctrine  of  the  Bible  ? 

"  '  Yes,  papa,  and  it  is  because,  after  long  and 
repeated  study  of  the  Bible,  I  have  found  the  doc- 
trine there,  that  I  believe,  and  am  now  comforted 
by  it.  You  will  pardon  my  saying  that  the  opinions 
which  I  have  formed,  and  the  doctrines  on  which  I 
rest,  have  not  been  imbibed  from  the  sermons  I  have 
heard,  or  the  books  which  I  have  read,  but  from  a 
close  study  of  the  scriptures  themselves.  I  have 
been  accustomed  to  bring  sermons  and  boolvs  to  the 
test  of  the  Bible,  and  not  the  Bible  to  them.  You 
cannot  think  what  liglit  and  comfort  I  have  found 
in  reading  God's  own  word.  I  never  found  any- 
thing like  it  from  any  other  book.' 

''  I  particularly  inquired  into  the  history  of  his 
mind  for  more  than  three  years  past,  in  reference  to 


CONVERSATIONS    WITH    HIS    FATHER.  241 

those  sceptical  temptations  which  he  had  formerly 
described  to  me ;  and  whether  he  had  been  lately 
tried  by  the  same  doubts  and  difficulties  in  respect 
of  the  truth  of  the  scriptures.  '•  Never,'  replied  he  ; 
*  no,  never.  From  the  time  to  which  you  allude, 
I  have  felt  the  most  perfect  reliance  on  the  word  of 
God  ;  and  by  much  reading  of  it,  and  praying  over 
it,  I  have  been  so  confirmed  in  my  persuasion  of  its 
divine  origin,  as  not  to  have  had  my  confidence 
once  shaken  since  that  period.  I  have  been  tried 
deeply  in  other  respects,  but  I  have  never  again 
varied  on  that  important  question.  The  book  of 
God,  by  God's  blessing  on  its  contents,  has  proved 
its  own  heavenly  character  to  my  understanding. 
How  thankful  I  feel  for  this  !' 

"  A  flush  frf  hectic  fever  occasioned  at  this  mo- 
ment a  short  period  of  debility,  and  he  paused  for  a 
few  minutes.  He  soon  resumed  his  affecting  con- 
versation, and  said,  '  I  am  not  ignorant  of  my  be- 
setting sin.  It  was  the  pride  of  the  understanding. 
I  always  loved  to  examine  thoroughly  into  the 
grounds  of  an  opinion  before  I  received  it,  and  gen- 
erally, though  not  always,  to  be  deliberate  in  com- 
ing to  a  conclusion.  This  habit  has  often  made  me 
appear  over-confident  in  what  I  said,  and  I  know 
you  have  felt  and  lamented  it.  I  do  entreat  your 
forgiveness  of  any  instance  of  my  folly  which  has 
hurt  and  grieved  you.'  Then  he  added,  '  The  rec- 
ollection of  it  has  greatly  humbled  me ;  I  trust  I 
have  seen  my  fault,  and  have  not  applied  in  vain  to 
the  blood  which  cleanseth  from  all  sin.' 

"  I  asked  him  what  had  been  his  views  of  the 


242  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

ministry  in  case  God  had  spared  his  hfe.  He  re- 
plied, '  You  know,  papa,  it  has  always  been  my 
wish  and  expectation  to  be  a  clergyman,  and  with 
this  view  I  have  sou2:ht  to  attain  various  kinds  of 
literary  knowledge.  I  have  very  often  prayed  to 
God  to  fit  me  for  this  office,  and  I  have  thought 
much  of  the  doctrines  I  should  have  to  preach  to 
others.  But  I  can  see  a  reason  why  God  has  put 
an  end  to  these  intentions  and  prospects.  He  is 
removing  me  out  of  this  life,  and  does  not  permit 
me  to  enter  into  the  ministry,  lest  I  should  be 
tempted,  from  the  peculiar  turn  of  my  mind,  to 
seek  the  honor  and  praise  of  men  in  my  ministra- 
tions, more  than  God's  glory,  and  the  salvation  of 
sinners.  I  think  I  can  see  both  wisdom  and  good- 
ness in  this  dispensation.' 

"  I  remarked  that  the  same  God  who  had  con- 
vinced him  of  his  danger,  could  have  humbled  his 
heart  in  a  variety  of  ways,  and  prepared  him  for  the 
service  of  the  sanctuary,  without  endangering  his 
safety  ;  and  doubtless  would  have  done  it  if  he  had 
seen  good  to  have  prolonged  his  life.  '  Such  dis- 
coveries of  your  own  heart,  my  dear  boy,  are  evi- 
dences not  only  of  what  God  can  do,  but  a  pledge 
of  what  he  would  have  done  for  you.'  '  True, 
papa,  but  if  he  is  pleased  to  humble  me  in  the  val- 
ley of  death,  may  it  not  be  safer  and  happier  for 
me  ?     The  Lord's  way  must  be  the  best  way.' 

"  He  then  adverted  to  another  subject.  '  I  have 
been  much  occupied  of  late,'  said  he,  '  in  thinking 
of  man's  natural  depravity,  and  the  deceitfulness  of 
the  human  heart.     I  have  discovered  it  in  many 


CONVERSATIONS    WITH    HIS    FATHER.  243 

things  in  which  we  are  apt  to  overlook  or  make  ex- 
cuses for  it.  I  am  sure  I  have  no  ground  of  hope 
except  I  stand  with  St.  Paul,  and  cry  out,  I  am  the 
chief  of  sinners.'  I  referred  to  a  conversation  which 
I  once  had  with  an  individual  who  objected  to  an 
application  of  that  expression  to  himself,  and  said 
it  was  intended  only  to  describe  the  peculiar  cir- 
cumstances of  St.  Paul.  '  Then  I  am  sure,'  re- 
plied Wilber force,  '  that  person  could  not  have  been 
rightly  convicted  of  guilt  in  his  own  conscience.  I 
do  not  know  what  the  critics  may  say  on  such  a 
passage,  but  I  am  quite  satisfied  that  when  the 
heart  is  opened  to  itself,  the  expression,  chief  of 
sinners^  will  not  appear  too  strong  to  describe  its 
character.  I  have  often  heard  you  say,  papa,  that 
the  view  of  religion  which  most  hono.rs  God,  is  that 
which  most  debases  the  sinner,  and  most  exalts  the 
Saviour.  I  never  felt  this  to  be  so  true  as  at  the 
present  moment.' 

"His  pallid  but  intelligent  countenance,  as  he 
said  this,  seemed  to  express  more  than  he  could 
find  words  to  utter.  He  paused  a  while  and  con- 
tinued, '  What  a  comfort  I  find  in  this  conversation 
with  you  I  It  is  such  a  relief  to  my  mind  !  and  I 
am  very  thankful  for  it.'  My  own  heart  was  too 
responsive  to  that  of  my  beloved  child,  not  to  re- 
echo his  own  sentiments.  I  knelt  down  and  re- 
turned thanks  to  God  for  the  consolation  afforded 
to  us  both,  and  prayed  earnestly  that  he  would  con- 
tinue to  us  the  same  holy  interchange  of  kindred 
spirit  and  feelings. 

"  In  another  conversation  my  dear  boy  expressed 


244  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

great  satisfaction  at  the  remembrance  of  the  prep- 
aration for  the  Lord's  Supper,  while  we  resided  in 
the  Isle  of  Bute  the  preceding  summer  ;  a  prepara- 
tion carried  on  for  several  weeks  before  he  first  re- 
ceived that  sacrament  in  the  Episcopal  Chapel  of 
Greenock.  He  observed  that  in  his  daily  opportu- 
nities of  reading  and  conversing  with  me,  he  could 
seldom  express  his  thoughts  with  freedom,  though 
he  deeply  felt  the  importance  of  the  subject  before 
us,  but  'I  shall  always  feel  thankful  to  you,  papa, 
for  the  diligent  and  affectionate  manner  in  which 
you  instructed  me.  I  love  that  book  of  Mason's. 
I  shall  never  forget  that  day  at  Greenock  Chapel. 
I  was  greatly  comforted.  You  preached  from  Isa. 
Iv.  1;  "Ho!  every  one  that  thirsteth,  come  ye  to 
the  waters ;  and  he  that  hath  no  money,  come  ye, 
buy  and  eat ;  yea,  come,  buy  wine  and  milk,  with- 
out money  and  without  price." — I  did  indeed  thirst 

for  the  waters  of  salvation.     Poor  Charlotte  B 

was  there  also.  Her  unexpected  death  affected  me 
much.' 

"  '  What  were  your  thoughts,'  I  said,  '  when  you 
wrote  those  lines  in  her  album  the  night  before  you 
parted  from  her  ?'* 

"  '  I  thought  them,'  he  replied,  '  very  suitable  to 
my  own  feelings,  but  I  little  thought  she  was  to 
realize  the  sentiment  before  I  did.'    '  She  has  joined 

*  It  matters  little  at  what  hour  of  the  day 

The  righteous  falls  asleep.     Death  cannot  come 
To  him  untimely  who  is  fit  to  die ; 
The  less  of  this  cold  world,  the  more  of  heaven ; 
The  briefer  life,  the  earlier  immortality. 

MiLLMAN. 


CONVERSATIONS    WITH    HIS    FATHER.  245 

her  father  in  a  better  world,'  I  said.  '  Yes,  and 
may  I  soon  be  with  them  !  but  God  knows  best, 
and  I  wish  to  commit  myself  into  his  hands,  for  life 
or  death.'  He  then  sunk  for  a  while  into  his  chair, 
and  dozed.  When  he  awoke  he  began  again  to 
converse.  '  But,  papa,  papa,  do  you  indeed  think 
I  am  on  the  right  foundation  ?  I  cannot  bear  the 
thought  of  being  deceived;  but  I  do  think  Christ 
loves  me  too  well  to  cast  me  away,  and  that  I  may 
say,  Faithful  is  he  that  has  promised^  who  also 
will  do  it.  I  love  God.  I  love  his  word,  I  love  his 
ways.  1  love  his  people,  though  I  feel  so  unworthy 
to  be  counted  one  of  them.  Surely  such  feelings 
as  these  do  not  fit  me  for  hell.'  An  indescribable 
look  of  animation  pervaded  his  countenance  as  he 
uttered  these  words,  and  bespoke  the  love,  faith, 
hope,  and  sincerity  of  his  heart,  too  plainly  to  be 
mistaken. 

"  ^  If,'  he  continued,  '  God  meant  to  destroy  me, 
would  he  have  shown  me  these  things  ?' 

"  '  I  am  persuaded  not,'  I  answered.  'Manoah's 
wife  has  proved  a  comforter  to  many,  and  I  rejoice 
that  her  argument  for  the  merciful  designs  of  God 
prevails  with  you.' 

"  '  I  am  now  fatigued,  and  must  go  to  bed,'  said 
he.     '  Pray  with  me,  and  then  good  night  I' 

"  Having  the  assistance  of  a  much-valued  friend 
to  undertake  the  public  services  of  my  church,  and 
feeling  great  anxiety  to  avail  myself  of  this  oppor- 
tunity to  devote  myself  to  my  son  in  his  critical  and 
alarming  state  of  health,  I  remained  at  home  with 
him  the  whole  day.     Although  much  oppressed  by 


246  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

the  rapidly-increfising  progress  of  disease  and  con- 
sequent debility,  yet  he  was  able  to  engage  in  some 
interesting  and  very  important  conversations  at 
intervals  during  the  day.  He  was  carried  into  the 
study  about  eleven  o'clock.  At  his  breakfast  he 
expressed  a  hope  that  there  were  many  now 
engaged  in  prayer  for  him  in  the  congregation 
assembled  for  divine  service.  '  I  should  love  to  be 
in  the  midst  of  them,  but  I  cannot  be  now.  It  never 
will  be  in  this  world.  What  a  comfortinsf  consider- 
ation,  papa,  that  wherever  two  or  three  are  gathered 
together  in  his  name,  Christ  has  promised  to  be 
present  with  them.  Do  you  not  think  he  is  here?' 
I  replied,  '  I  cannot  doubt  it,  my  dear  boy.  It  is 
one  of  the  most  consolatory  views  of  the  word  of 
God,  not  only  that  he  is  constantly  present  with 
every  individual  believer,  in  every  place,  and  under 
every  circumstance,  but  he  is  also  especially  present 
with  all  such,  however  great  or  small  their  number, 
who  unite  together  in  acts  of  worsliip  and  religious 
intercourse.  He  is  alike  present  at  this  time  with 
our  friends  in  the  church,  and  with  you  and  me  in 
this  room.  May  God  give  us  grace  to  realize  this 
and  be  thankful.' 

''  Soon  afterwards,  while  the  servant  was  remov- 
ing the  breakfast  things,  I  was  stirring  the  fire,  as  he 
complained  of  the  cold ;  and  a  short  silence  ensued. 
He  said  presently,  with  a  playful  smile,  *  I  was 
thinking,  while  yt)u  stirred  the  fire,  how  much  easier 
it  is  to  rake  the  ashes  from  the  grate  than  to  get  rid 
of  sin  from  the  heart ;'  and  then  relapsing  into  a 
grave  look,  he  added,  '  how  often  the  ashes  of  sin 


CONVERSATIONS    WITH    HIS    FATHER.  247 

deaden  the  flame  of  religion  in  the  heart.'  This 
remark — originating  in  an  aj3parently  casual  in- 
cident— led  to  a  close  conversation  on  the  nature  of 
sin,  and  the  difficulties  with  v/hich  a  Christian  has  to 
contend  in  his  conflicts  with  indwelling  and  inbred 
corruption.  I  was  much  struck  with  his  deep  ac- 
quaintance with  the  exercises  of  his  own  heart, 
and  with  the  gospel  plan  of  salvation,  which  he 
evinced  as  he  continued  to  dwell  on  this  subject. 
I  rejoiced  to  observe  in  him  a  personal  and  practical 
application  of  the  grand  truths  of  revelation  to  his 
own  heart ;  the  result  of  much  pra3^er  and  medita- 
tion, and  reading  of  the  sacred  volum.e  :  his  inmost 
thoughts  were  thrown  into  our  discourses,  which 
manifested  a  power  and  demonstration  of  the  Spirit 
of  God  far  beyond  what  I  ever  anticipated.  The 
reserve  which  had  caused  me  so  much  solicitude 
was  entirely  removed.  With  a  sweet  and  endear- 
ing freedom  of  heart  and  tongue  he  expressed  him- 
self so  openly,  and  with  such  sincerity,  as  filled  me 
with  gratitude,  and  rendered  me  for  a  moment 
insensible — comparatively  insensible — to  the  pang 
of  bereavement  which  was  soon  to  be  undergone. 
To  possess  such  satisfactory  evidences  of  my  child 
being  an  heir  of  glory,  that  my  temporary  loss 
would  prove  his  eternal  gain,  and  the  hope  that  we 
should  one  day  meet  in  the  presence  of  God  to  part 
no  more,  cheered  my  spirit  and  tranquillized  my 
mind,  under  an  affliction  otherwise  insupportable. 

"  I  was  making  a  reference  to  some  expressions 
in  the  seventh  chapter  of  the  epistle  to  the  Romans, 
on  the  nature  and  character  of  St.  Paul's  own  ex- 


248  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

perimental  acquaintance  with  the  truths  which  he 
enforced  on  others,  when  I  was  summoned  to  join 
my  other  children  at  the  dinner-table.  I  told  him 
mv  absence  would  allow  him  a  respite  from  the 
fatigue  of  conversation,  but  that  I  would  soon 
return  to  him  and  resume  the  subject,  and  begged 
him  to  seek  repose  for  a  little  while  in  his  own  arm- 
chair. This  appeared  to  me  the  more  necessary, 
as  I  had  observed  an  evident  and  painful  struggle 
between  the  debility  of  his  frame  and  the  anima- 
tion of  his  thoughts.  The  hour  of  the  afternoon 
service  arriving,  I  returned  to  my  son,  whom  I 
found  with  the  Bible  opened  before  him.  He  looked 
at  me  with  a  smile,  and  said,  'Well,  papa,  I  have 
not  been  asleep.  I  have  been  otherwise  employed. 
I  revived  almost  as  soon  as  you  left  me,  and  as  I 
wanted  to  converse  with  you  on  the  epistle  to  the 
Romans,  I  have  been  reading  through  the  first  eight 
chapters,  whilst  you  were  below,  in  order  that  I 
might  have  this  subject  more  clear  in  my  recollec- 
tion.' I  was  surprised  and  pleased  to  find  that  he 
had  strength  sufficient  for  such  an  exertion,  and  I 
reflect  on  the  circumstance  with  greater  interest,  as 
this  was,  I  believe,  the  last  time  he  was  able  to  read 
at  all. 

"  He  observed  that  he  had  purposely  stopped  at 
the  eighth  chapter,  because  the  apostle  had  there 
seemed  to  make  a  division  in  his  subject  and  argu- 
ment. '  What  a  beautiful  summary  of  doctrine 
these  chapters  contain,  papa !  I  have  thought  on 
them  again  and  again.  St.  Paul  lays  his  foundation 
deep  in  the  corruption  of  human  nature,  and  shows 


CONVERSATIONS    WITH    HIS    FATHER.  249 

SO  plainly  that  neither  Jew  nor  Gentile  has  any 
hope  from  works,  but  only  from  faith  in  Christ 
Jesus.  I  have  found  great  comfort  from  that  view 
of  the  righteousness  of  Christ,  which  the  Apostle 
declares  to  be  the  only  wa};  of  salvatio.n.  There  is, 
there  can  be  no  other.  We  have  no  righteousness 
of  our  own — all  are  under  sin — every  mouth  must 
be  stopped,  and  all  the  world  become  guilty  before 
God.  I  have  been  at  times  perplexed  about  tiie 
principle  of  acceptance  with  God,  but  now  I  see  it 
quite  clear.  With  what  earnestness  does  the  apos- 
tle labor  to  prove  the  vanity  of  all  human  depend- 
ence. I  have  been  thinking  as  I  read  these  chap- 
ters, how  entirely  the  walk  of  a  believer  depends 
on  his  faith  in  Christ,  and  how  closely  connected  the 
holiness,  and  the  comfort,  and  the  reliance  of  the 
soul  are  with  each  other.'  He  proceeded  to  com- 
ment on  the  fifth  and  sixth  chapters,  as  a  train  of 
experimental  and  practice  reasoning  deduced  from 
those  which  preceded  them,  adding,  '  But  the 
seventh  and  eighth  chapters  have  been  my  delight. 
I  have  found  my  own  case  so  exactly  and  so  clearly 
described  in  the  seventh,  and  have  been  so  much 
comforted  by  St.  Paul's  description  of  his  own  feel- 
ings about  sin  and  Christ,  as  I  can  never  express. 
And  then  the  eighth  crowns  the  whole.  Oh,  what  a 
chapter  is  that !  Every  word  has  given  me  instruc- 
tion, strength,  and  comfort.'  I  here  said,  '  And 
can  you  make  an  inward  application  of  the  latter  part 
of  that  chapter  to  yourself  ?'  '  Indeed,  papa,  I  hope 
I  am  not  deceiving  myself,  but  I  do  think  I  can — it 
lifts  me  up  with  such  hope  and  confidenoe,  the  lan- 
11# 


250  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

guage  is  so  sublime,  and  the  doctrine  so  convincing. 
It  sometimes  seems  too  much  for  a  sinner  like  me 
to  say  ; — but  all  things  are  possible  with  God,  and 
he  whom  God  saves,  has  a  propriety  in  all  things.' 
He  then  went  through  the  whole  subject  of  the 
chapter,  making  a  variety  of  sensible  and  solid 
remarks  upon  it,  and  entreating  me  to  examine  him 
as  to  Ills  personal  application  of  these  glorious  and 
gracious  truths  to  his  own  heart.  After  he  had 
made  some  animated  observations  on  the  conclud- 
ing part  of  this  chapter,  he  said,  '  But  now  I  want 
to  add  one  sentence  from  another  part  of  the 
epistle  to  wind  up  the  whole,  and  that  is,  "  Oh !  the 
depth  of  the  riches  both  of  the  wisdom  and  knowl- 
edge of  God  I  how  unsearchable  are  his  judgments, 
and  his  ways  past  finding  out  I  For  who  hath  known 
the  mind  of  the  Lord  ?  or  who  hath  been  his  coun- 
sellor ?  or  who  hath  first  given  to  him,  and  it  shall 
be  recompensed  to  him  again?  For  of  him,  and 
through  him,  and  to  him  are  all  things:  to  whom  be 
glory  forever.  Amen."  '  I  shall  ever  retain  a  vivid 
recollection  of  the  tone  of  his  voice,  and  the  sparJc:- 
ling  look  of  his  eye,  which  accompanied  the  utter- 
ance of  these  words.  He  became  immediately 
much  exhausted — the  difficulty  of  breathing  in- 
creased— the  fever  ran  very  high — he  bent  over  the 
table  and  fell  into  a  doze,  which  lasted  half  an  hour. 
He  gradually  awoke,  and  I  observed  him  to  fix  his 
eyes  on  a  globe  of  water  which  stood  near  the 
window,  and  contained  a  gold  fish.  I  inquired 
what  he  was  looking  at  so  earnestly.     He  replied, 


CONVERSATIONS    WITH    HIS    FATHER.  251 

*  I  have  often  watched  the  mechanical  motion  of  our 
gold  and  silver  fish  in  that  globe.  There  is  now  only 
one  left,  and  that  seems  to  be  weak  and  sickly.  I 
wonder  which  of  us  will  live  the  longest — the  fish 
or  T?'  He  paused,  and  then  added,  'That  fish, 
my  dear  papa,  is  supported  by  the  water  in  the 
vessel,  but  I  hope  I  am  supported  by  the  water  of 
salvation.  The  fish  will  soon  die  and  live  no  more ; 
but  I  am  upheld  by  the  water  of  salvation,  I  shall 
live  forever.' 

"  His  remark  led  me  to  make  some  observations 
on  the  practical  use  which  may  be  made  of  natural 
objects,  and  the  advantages  of  cultivating  a  habit 
of  seeking  something  of  God  and  the  soul  every- 
where, and  of  accustoming  the  mind  to  seek  such 
comparisons  and  allusions  as  tend  to  improve  and 
delight  it.  Wilberforce  observed,  '  This  is  the  very 
principle  exeraplifi.ed  in  our  Lord's  parables,  and  in 
all  the  figurative  language  of  scripture.'  At  this 
moment  a  gleam  of  light  from  the  setting  sun  shone 
upon  the  gold  fish,  and  produced  a  brilliant  reflec- 
tion from  its  scales,  as  it  swam  in  the  glass  vessel. 
'  Look,'  said  he,  '  at  its  beauty  now.'  '  So,  my 
dear  boy,  may  a  bright  and  more  glorious  sun  shine 
upon  you,  and  gild  the  evening  of  your  days.'  '  I 
hope,'  he  replied,  '  although  I  sometimes  feel  a  cloud 
and  a  doubt  pass  across  my  mind,  that  in  the  even- 
mg-time  there  shall  be  light,  and  then  in  his  light 
I  shall  see  light.' 

"  Thus  the  gold  fish  furnished  us  with  a  kind  of 
parable.     It  so  happened  that  the  fish  survived  my 


252  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

son  two  or  three  weeks,  but  I  never  afterwards 
saw  it  without  a  lively  recollection  of  the  conversa- 
tion to  which  it  gave  rise  ;  and  the  ideas  associated 
it  still  mingle  with  the  cherished  moments  of  his 
latter  end," 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

"  How  calm  their  rest ! 
Night  dews  fall  not  more  gently  on  the  ground, 
Nor  weary  worn-out  winds  expire  so  soft." — Blair. 

*'  From  this  time  my  brother  kept  his  room,  be- 
ing too  weak  to  be  removed  to  the  study.  He  sat 
up  during  a  part  of  the  day  in  his  arm-chair,  and 
conversed  with  his  father  in  the  same  strain  of  ele- 
vated piety.  His  mind  was  at  times  strong  and 
vigorous,  full  of  faith,  rejoicing  in  the  prospect  of 
death,  his  heart  trusting  in  God, — then  trembling, 
and  leaning  on  his  spiritual  guide,  who  watched 
over  him  with  the  overflowings  of  tenderness,  grat- 
itude, and  love,  while  his  dying  son  besought  him 
to  probe  his  inmost  sonl.  My  father,  when  with 
us,  usually  preserved  a  dignified  composure  ;  speak- 
ing little,  and  with  tears ;  pouring  forth  his  soul 
in  the  family  devotions ;  and  seeming  to  say,  '  He 
will  soon  leave  me,  but  blessed  be  the  name  of  the 
Lord.' 

"  I  returned  to  Turvey  on  the  10th  of  January. 
My  father  met  me  in  the  hall.  He  wept  much  as 
he  told  me  there  was  no  hope  of  Willy's  life  ;  but 
he  soon  recovered  himself,  and  said  tliat  the  agony 
of  bereavement  was  forgotten  in  the  blessed  thought, 
that  he  had  trained  up  a  child  for  glory.     He  then 


254 


FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 


took  me  up  stairs,  where  I  found  the  dear  invalid 
in  a  chair  before  the  fire,  looking  very  pale  and 
emaciated,  but  with  a  countenance  full  of  peace 
and  love.  His  eye  glistened  as  I  entered.  He 
leaned  his  head  on  my  shoulder,  but  was  too  deeply 
moved  to  utter  a  word.  He  continued  silent- a  long 
time,  and  scarcely  spoke  or  answered  the  usual  in- 
quiries of  affection.  In  the  evening  he  revived,  and 
seemed  disposed  to  converse.  I  asked  if  he  could 
view  the  approach  of  death  without  fear. 

"  '  Yes,  dear  F ,  I  have  no  wish  to  stay  one 

day  longer  on  earth,  but  I  must  not  be  impatient. 
Lord  Jesus !  come  quickly  I  If  it  be  thy  will,  I 
would  not  linger  here,  but  I  pray  for  patience.     Ah  I 

F ,  how  I  long  to  be  free  from  this  poor  body, 

and  see  my  Saviour's  face.  You  can  never  know 
how  I  long  for  this,  till  you  also  have  heaven  in 
view.  I  know  in  whom  I  have  trusted.  He  will 
save  me,  for  he  has  promised,  and  he  never  changes.' 
He  then  fell  into  a  kind  of  stupor,  murmuring  dis- 
tinctly, '  Christ  the  sinner's  hope.'  When  he  awoke, 
the  fever  was  very  high,  and  his  mind  seemed  to 
wander.  My  father  entered.  Ho  looked  up  and 
said,  '  He  fights  hard  and  I  fight  hard,  but  Christ 
fights  harder.'  He  began  to  pray  aloud,  struggling 
for  strength  and  thought,  and  entreating  God  that 
he  might  not  be  given  up  to  delirium,  of  which  he 
had  a  great  dread,  and  then  he  praised  and  blessed 
God  for  giving  him  strength  to  offer  another  prayer. 

"I  sat  up  with  him  the  greater  part  of  the  night. 
He  once  startled  me  with  the  energy  with  which 
after  a  long  silence  he  cried  out,  '  I  know  in  whom 


■vvtlberforce's  life  concluded.  255 

I  am  trusting.  I  know  he  never  yet  left  one  soul 
that  trusted  in  him.  I  will  not  doubt.'  He  passed 
a  painful  night,  with  alternate  fits  of  fever  and  shiv- 
ering. He  continually  expressed  a  fear  that  the 
fever  would  occasion  delirium.  He  felt  his  time  so 
precious,  that  he  could  not  bear  to  lose  a  moment 
by  insensibility ;  he  exclaimed  with  the  utmost  ve- 
hemence, '  O  God !  most  merciful ; — O  God  !  do 
not  afflict  me  with  the  greatest  of  all  evils — in- 
sanity. I  long  to  glorify  thee  in  my  death.  Can  I 
glorify  thee  in  delirium,  when  I  know  thee  not  ? 
Yet  not  my  will  but  thine  be  done.' 

"About  five  o'clock  on  Wednesday  morning  he 
said,  '  Now  call  up  papa,  and  ask  him  to  come  and 
talk  with  me.  1  feel  as  if  I  should  have  much  to 
suffer  to-day,  and  I  want  him  here,  that  I  may  call 
up  some  comfort  and  strength.'  He  came  imme- 
diately. I  retired,  and  did  not  hear  their  conversa- 
tion. My  father  has  more  than  once  told  me  of  the 
interesting  subjects  of  their  discourse,  but  I  am 
afraid  to  trust  to  recollection  at  this  distance  of 
time.  I  again  regret  that  my  beloved  father  did 
not  live  to  fulfil  his  own  intentions.  I  extract  from 
his  very  imperfect  notes,  what  may  possibly  apply 
to  their  present  interview. 

"'I  read  Hooker's  death  to  him — substantial 
calm  on  his  mind,  only  interrupted  for  the  moment 
by  disease — he  told  me  of  his  grapplings  with  infidel 
objections — of  his  weeping  when  a  little  child,  at  a 
sermon  I  preached  from  Jeremiah.'* 

*  Jer.  iii.  22.  Return  !  thou  backsliding  Israel,  saith  the  Lord, 
and  I  will  not  cause  mine  anger  to  fall  upon  you  ;  for  I  am  mer- 
cil'ul,  saith  the  Lord,  and  I  will  not  keep  mine  anger  forever. 


256  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

''  After  breakfast  I  returned  to  relieve  my  father, 
who,  amidst  his  daily  sufferings,  was  not  unmindful 
of  his  family  or  his  parish.  '  I  must  work  while  it 
is  called  to-day ^^  seemed  to  be  the  prevailing  senti- 
ment of  his  mind,  and  his  beloved  child's  death  gave 
additional  weight  to  the  admonition,  *  what  thou 
doest,  do  with  all  thy  might.' 

"  Wilberforce  sat  silent  for  some  time,  then 
looked  up  and  said,  '  Come  and  sit  close  to  me. 
Let  me.  lean  on  you.'  Then  putting  his  arms  round 
me,  he  exclaimed,  '  God  bless  you,  my  dear.' — He 
was  agitated,  and  ceased  speaking.  Presently  he 
said — '  I  must  leave  you — we  shall  walk  no  further 
through  this  world  together — but  I  hope  we  shall 
meet  in  heaven.     Let  us  now  talk  of  heaven.     Do 

not  weep  for  me,  dear  F ,  do  not  weep,  for  I  am 

very  happy ;  but  think  of  me,  and  let  the  thought 
make  you  press  forward.  I  never  knew  happiness 
till  I  knew  Christ  as  a  Saviour.'  He  then  exhorted 
and  encouraged  me  to  study  the  Bible  with  perse- 
verance. '  Read  the  Bible — read  the  Bible.  Let 
no  religious  book  take  its  place ; — through  all  my 
perplexities  and  distresses,  I  never  read  any  other 
book,  and  I  never  felt  the  want  of  any  other.  It 
has  been  my  hourly  study,  and  all  my  knowledge 
of  the  doctrines,  and  all  my  acquaintance  with  the 
experience  and  realities  of  religion  have  been  de- 
rived from  the  Bible  only.  I  think  religious  people 
do  not  read  the  Bible  enough.  Books  about  relig- 
ion may  be  useful,  but  they  will  not  do  instead  of 
the  simple  truth  of  the  Bible.'  He  then  spoke  of 
his  regret  at  parting  with  us.     '  Nothing  convinces 


257 

me  more  of  the  reality  of  the  change  within  me, 
than  the  feelings  with  which  I  can  contemplate  a 
separation  from  my  family.  I  now  feel  so  weaned 
from  the  earth,  my  affections  so  much  in  heaven, 
that  I  can  leave  you  all  without  a  regret.  Yet  1 
do  not  love  you  less,  but  God  more.'  I  asked  him 
whether  his  mind  had  been  distressed  for  the  last 
few  months  at  the  thought  of  parting  from  us, — for, 
knowing  the  strength  of  his  affections,  I  fancied  he 
must  have  suffered  much  in  subduing  and  control- 
ling them.     '  Oh  I  my  dear  F ,  the  pain,  the 

agony  I  have  felt,  when  I  said  to  myself,  I  must 
leave  them  all.  You  will  never  know  what  bitter 
hours  I  have  passed  ; — none  but  God  knows  what 
it  cost  me  to  break  those  ties  which  bound  me  so 
strongly  to  earth.  Never,  never  will  you  know 
what  I  suffered,  as  I  looked  at  you  all,  and  felt  my 
strength  declining,  and  remembered  it  must  soon 
be  a  last  look.  I  thought  this  must  be  the  bitter- 
ness of  death ;  and  even  after  I  had  found  accept- 
ance and  peace  with  God,  I  still  suffered  deeply  in 
the  prospect  of  separation,  and  never  supposed  I 
could  willingly  part  from  my  family.  I  knew  that 
God  would  support  me,  and  carry  me  through  this 
trial ;  but  a  trial  I  felt  it  must  be  to  the  last; — and 
yet,  see  me  now  in  the  immediate  prospect  of  part- 
ing. I  am  quite  happy,  and  can  leave  you  all  with- 
out a  tear.  I  know  God  can  unite  us  all  again ; 
and  I  can  trust  him  here  as  I  can  in  everything 
else.  Now  this  change  must  have  been  effected  by 
God.  It  is  so  evident,  I  cannot  mistake  it.  I  could 
not  have  acquired  this  composure  myself,  God  has 


258  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

done  it,  but  I  have  suffered  much  in  the  process.' 
He  always  appeared  comlbrtcd  when  he  heard 
that  any  one  had  prayed  for  him,  and  frequently 
entreated  those  about  him  to  pray,  but  he  used  to 
add,  '  Do  not  pray  for  my  life,  but  that  I  may  have 

comfort  in  death.'     I  w^as  writing  to  W ,  and 

asked  him  if  he  had  any  message  to  send.  He  said, 
'  They  have  been  very  kind  to  me,  but  I  am  too  ill 
to  think  of  them.'  Afterwards  seeming  to  recollect 
himself,  he  said,  '  Come  and  hold  my  head  while  I 
try  to  remember  them  ;  I  would  send  some  mes- 
sage.    Tell  dear  M that  I  am  suflering  very 

much,  but  I  can  and  do  rejoice  in  my  sufferings,  for 
every  pain  is  bringing  me  nearer  to  heaven.  1  shall 
not  see  her  again  in  this  world;'  here  he  seemed 
quite  exhausted.     After  a  while  he  revived  a  little. 

'  I  want  to  say  something  to  dear  Mr.  W ,  you 

told  me  he  had  been  praying  lor  me.  I  wish  him 
to  know  how  much  I  have  been  comforted  by  this — 
how  grateful  I  feel  to  him.  Tell  him  how  much  I 
value  his  prayers,  and  that  they  have  been  an- 
swered ;  for  Christ  is  now  precious  to  me.  Through 
him  the  fear  of  death  is  taken  awa3^  I  want  to 
tell  him  more.  If  I  can  I  will  to-morrow,  but  say 
this.'  He  now  became  exceedingly  ill;  he  breathed 
with  great  difficulty  ;  he  panted  for  breath,  and  his 
struggles  were  distressing.  The  sufferings  of  his 
body  affected  his  mind,  and  he  seemed  to  lose  his 
comfort  and  confidence  in  Christ.  He  cried  out 
many  times,  '  Oh  !  pray  for  me,  pray  for  me,  pray 
for  me.  This  is  hard  to  bear  ;  how  different  the 
pains  of  death  are  from  any  other.     It  is  such  a 


wilberforce's  life  concluded.  259 

struggle  to  get  free.'  He  appeared  to  suffer  much 
in  his  mind.  My  father  said,  '  My  dear  boy,  Christ 
is  still  with  you.  Where  he  once  fixes  his  love,  he 
never  takes  it  away.  You  may  not  see  him  just 
now,  but  he  is  not  the  less  near  to  you.  Nothing 
can,  nothing  shall  separate  you  from  Christ.'  Willy 
cried  out,  '  And  did  not  he  say,  "  My  God,  my 
God,  why  hast  thou  forsaken  me  ?" '  Then  he 
twice  repeated,  '  For  a  small  moment  have  I  for- 
saken thee,  but  with  great  mercies  will  I  gather 
thee.'  '  Oh  !  papa  ! — what  shall  I  do — I  am  suffer- 
ing so  very  much  !'  '  Not  one  pang  too  many,  my 
child,'  said  his  weeping  father,  while  the  big  tears 
rolled  down  his  cheek.  '  1  know  it,  papa,'  he  an- 
swered, 'I  believe  it,  I  feel  it.'  He  continued  in  a 
state  of  suffering  nearly  the  whole  day.  Towards 
evening  he  sank  into  a  sort  of  lethargy.  He  seemed 
scarcely  to  know  anything  that  was  passing.  About 
eleven  o'clock  at  night  my  father  read  the  23rd 
Psalm,  and  prayed  with  him.  He  was  able  to  at- 
tend, and  it  seemed  to  cheer  him.  He  was  better 
in  the  morning,  and  had  much  comfortable  conver- 
sation with  his  father  throughout  the  day.  Mr. 
G came  to  see  him.  Willy  wished  to  con- 
verse with  him.  He  was  fearful  at  first,  and  ex- 
pressed some  doubt  of  his  salvation  ;  but  Mr.  G 

encouraged  him  by  his  remarks.  He  assured  him 
that  Christ  would  never  give  up  a  soul  who  had 
fled  to  him  for  refuge.  Here  Willy  interrupted 
him,  '  I  believe  it,  yes,  I  believe  it.  Christ  has 
brought  me  thus  far,  and  he  will  not  leave  me.  He 
has  said,  "  Whosoever  coraeth  unto  me,  I  will  in 


260  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

no  wise  cast  out."  I  feel  now  quite  certain  that 
Christ  will  save  me.'  He  then  adverted  to  his  love 
for  us,  and  the  parting  with  us.  '  We  have  been 
a  happy  family; — so  closely  united  I  Every  two 
of  us  can  say,  how  dearly  we  love  each  other. 
Our  love  has  been  more  than  common — I  think  we 
shall  be  a  family  of  love  in  heaven.  Two  of  us  are 
in  heaven  already,  and  there  will  soon  be  a  third. 
Oh,  I  feel  persuaded  we  shall  meet  again.'     Mr. 

G proposed  to   read   a  chapter  in  the   Bible. 

Willy  said  he  could  listen,  and  Mr.  G chose 

parts  of  the  last  two  chapters  of  the  book  of  Reve- 
lations. He  appeared  greatly  refreshed.  His  face 
beamed  with  joy  while  he  listened  to  the  sublime 
and  glorious  description  of  the  new  Jerusalem,  and 
anticipated  the  moment  of  his  own  entrance  into 
the  holy  city,  to  go  oat  no  more  forever ;  when  he 
should  join  the  melody  of  the  heavenly  choir,  and 
make  one  of  the  countless  throng  before  the  throne 
of  God.  '  Glorious  things  are  spoken  of  thee,  O 
city  of  God.'     After  a  short  pause,  he  said  to  Mr. 

G ,  'Tell  me  about  the  song  of  Moses  and  the 

Lamb,  my  memory  is  failing.     Repeat  it  to  me.' 

Mr.   G repeated   from   Rev.   xv.   '  Great   and 

marvellous  are  thy  works,  Lord  God  Almighty ; 
just  and  true  are  thy  ways,  thou  King  of  Saints. 
Who  shall  not  fear  thee,  O  Lord,  and  glorify  thy 
name  ?  for  thou  only  art  holy ;  for  all  nations  shall 
come  and  worship  before  thee  ;  for  thy  judgments 
are  made  manifest.' 

"  Mr.  G took  leave  of  him,  and    some  time 

after    his    departure,    Willy     said,    'Mr.    G 


261 

seemed  sent  to  bring  the  close  of  the  Bible  to  be 
the  consolation  of  the  close  of  my  life.  It  is  sin- 
gular that  he  should  have  fixed  on  those  chapters, 
for  I  have  read  them  so  often  ;  again  and  again  in 
my  hours  of  sorrow,  longing,  prayer,  but  not  daring 
to  believe  I  should  ever  be  admitted  to  that  glorious 
company  ;  how  have  I  wept  over  them !' 

"  Mr.  F.  paid  him  a  visit,  and  Wilberforce  was 
very  earnest  in  pressing  him  to  examine  the  state 
of  his  mind,  saying   '  I  would  neither  deceive   nor 

be  deceived.'      Mr.   F replied,  'You  are   now 

too  much  exhausted  for  conversation ;  I  have  heard 
from  your  papa  the  state  of  your  mind,  and  I  am 
quite  satisfied  with  his  opinion  of  you,  for  our  ideas 
of  true  conversion  are  the  same.'  'Yes,'  said 
he,  '  but  I  would  rather  you  should  examine  for 
yourself, — I  want  you  also  to  search  me.' 

"He  asked   Mr.  F whether  the   feeling  of 

assurance  was  necessary  to  salvation.  '  I  do  not,' 
he  said,  'always  feel  alike;  sometimes  when  ill- 
ness overpowers  me,  my  comfort  is  gone,  and  I  am 
afraid  that  after  all  I  shall  perish ;  but  I  know  that 
in  my  darkest  season  I  still  love  my  Saviour  above 
everything.' 

"  '  My  dear  Wilberforce,'  said  Mr.  F ,  '  you 

cannot  have  a  more  able  counsellor,  in  your  per- 
plexities, than  your  affectionate  father,  and  your 
very  weak  state  inclines  me  to  be  brief.  Our  re- 
ligion may  be  explained  in  few  words,  at  least  as 
far  as  it  is  necessary  to  your  peace  and  safety. 
You  must  have  a  title  to  heaven,  and  a  meetness 
for  its  enjoyment ;  you  need  not  now  trouble  your- 


262  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

self  on  other  points.  The  title  is  Christ's  merits. 
Do  you  rest  on  them  alone  for  acceptance  with 
God?' 

"  '  Oh  yes  ;  I  have  no  other  hope  or  trust.  If  I 
have  confidence  or  comfort,  I  get  it  only  there.' 
'  Well,  then,  the  next  thing  is  a  meetness  for 
heaven.  If  any  man  belong  to  Christ  he  has  the 
mind  of  Christ ;  he  is  a  new  creature  ;  religion  is 
his  life  as  well  as  his  peace.'  'Indeed,  indeed,' 
he  replied,  '  I  do  love  Christ ;  I  long  to  be  where 
he  is,  to  dwell  with  him  forever.'  '  Then  all  is 
safe,  Wilberforce ;  I  am  quite  satisfied  that  he 
who  has  worked  the  one  in  you,  has  procured  the 

other  for  you.'     '  But  your  eye,  Mr.  F ,  your 

eye  looks  as  if  it  doubted  of  me.'  '  No,  my  dear 
Wilberforce,  I  am  not  doubting ;  I  am  looking  on 
you  with  a  deep  interest.' 

"  Mr.  F went  away  with  a  promise  to  see 

him  again  in  a  few  days,  but  my  brother  died  be- 
fore the  time  fixed  for  another  visit. 

"  He  slept  for  some  time,  and  then  suddenly  sat 
up  in  his  chair  with  apparent  ease ;  he  breathed 
freely,  spoke  distinctly,  seemed  free  from  pain,  and 
his  countenance  looked  satisfied  and  happy.  I  was 
quite  surprised  at  the  change,  and  said,  '  My  dear 
Willy,  you  seem  much  better.'  '  Yes,'  he 
answered,  '  I  am  much  better.  This  is  a  precious 
moment,  and  now  I  hope  I  shall  be  able  to  talk  to 
you  a  little.     This  is  an  answer  to  prayer,  dear 

F .     I  have  much  longed  to   glorify  God   in 

my  death,  and  ever  since  last  Sunday  I  have  been 
praying  for  one  hour  of  ease  and  strength  to  speak 


263 


to  you  all  for  the  last  time,  and  tell  you  what  I 
now  think  of  religion.  Hitherto  you  have  seen  me 
so  overpowered  by  disease,  that  you  could  not 
judge  of  my  comfort  and  confidence  in  my  princi- 
ples. Bat  God  has  granted  my  request,  and  I  will 
glorify  him.'  He  then  began  an  interesting  con- 
versation, and  spoke  with  astonishing  ease.  He 
was  very  plain  and  sincere.  He  told  me  kindly  of 
faults  and  errors  which  he  had  observed  in  me  ; 
and  he  endeavored  to  correct  them,  and  encouraged 
me  from  his  own  experience  to  persevere  in  striving 

against  them.     '  My   dear,  my  very  dear  F ,' 

he  said,  '  I  hope  we  shall  meet  in  heaven.  I  could 
not  talk  to  you  in  this  calm  manner,  if  I  did  not 
believe  we  should  meet  again.  But  you  have  much 
to  learn — much  to  do  before  you  can  get  there. 
There  is  but  one  road,  and  without  an  entire  dedi- 
cation of  the  heart  to  God,  you  cannot  walk  in  it.' 
He  spoke  of  the  dangers  of  a  religious  education  ; 
of  having  the  form  of  religion,  while  the  heart  w^as 
still  unchanged,  and  the  will  unsubdued.  He 
spoke  also  of  what  he  called  sentimental  religion, 
telling  me  how  easy  it  was  to  write  in  beauti- 
ful poetic  language  without  any  real  feeling  of 
heart ;  and  he  mentioned  some  instances  where  re- 
ligion was  but  a  bright  fiction  of  the  imagination  ; 
and  others  where  it  proved  itself  a  transforming 
principle  in  the  life  and  conduct.  '  My  dear  sister, 
be  a  real  disciple — be  in  earnest.  You  will  want 
heart  religion  when  you  come  to  die  —  the  "poetry 
of  religion"  w^ill  not  do  then  ;' — reminding  me  of 
some   letters   I    had    written   to  him.     He  again 


264  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

recommended  to  me  most  earnestly  the  constant 
study  of  the  Bible.  '  Here,'  he  said,  '  I  speak  in 
a  peculiar  manner  from  recent  experience.  For 
the  last  three  months  the  Bible  has  been  my  sole 
instructor.  It  has  gradually  led  me  on  to  clear 
light  and  real  experience,  till  every  promise  is  my 
own.  I  have  read  the  greater  part  of  it  through 
several  times  during  my  illness — and  often  on  a 
Sunday,  when  I  have  spent  the  day  alone,  I  have 
read  the  whole  of  the  New  Testament,  unable  to 
leave  ofl'  till  I  had  grasped  all  the  mind  of  the 
Spirit  at  once.  Perhaps  papa  has  thought  I  read 
too  few  religious  books — he  has  looked  anxious  at 
my  neglect  of  many  he  put  in  my  way.  I  do  not 
give  myself  in  this  respect  for  an  example,  but  I 
have  found  little  benefit  from  books,  sermons,  or 
conversations.  The  Bible,  the  Bible  alone  has 
taught  me  everything.  If  I  read  books  on  religion, 
however  excellent,  the  thought  always  haunted 
me — This  is  human — it  may  be  wrong.  I  could 
not  rest  till  I  went  to  the  Bible.  Here  I  felt  all 
was  divine  and  infallible;  and  I  found  such  comfort 
in  the  simple  truth  of  God's  word,  that  I  set  aside 
every  other  book,  dissatisfied.  I  may  bo  earnest 
then,  in  pressing  you  to  go  to  the  Bible.' 

"  He  then  said,  '  But  you  must  pray  over  the 
Bible — without  the  teaching  of  the  Spirit  it  will  do 
you  no  good  ;  you  must  apply  it  as  you  go  on  to 
yourself,  and  feel  it  personally,  or  you  will  get  no 
benefit,  though  you  stand  the  whole  day  over  it. 
I  have  been  in  the  habit  of  reading  the  Bible  on  my 
knees,  and  I  recommend   you  to  do  the  same.     It 


wilberforce's  life  concluded.  265 

encourages  prayer.  I  have  found  it  very  useful  to 
turn  Scripture  into  prayer,  using  the  very  words. 
There  is  not  a  psalm  I  have  not  turned  into  a 
prayer.  I  have  felt  so  safe  in  making  prayers  from 
the  Bible,  because  then  I  knew  I  could  not  err  ;  and 
let  prayer  always  be  preceded  by  self  examination  ; 
lay  your  heart  bare  before  God  ;  indulge  not  even 
a  doubtful  feeling  ;  one  secret  sin  will  cloud  all.' 

"  I  had  marked  the  depression  of  his  spirit  when 
the  symptoms  of  his  disease  appeared  more  unfa- 
vorable, and  I  asked  him  if  he  had  any  fear  of  death 
now.  He  answered  me  with  great  firmness — '  No, 
not  any.  I  have  unshaken  confidence  in  Jesus  as  a 
Saviour.  He  has  taken  away  the  sting  of  death, 
and  for  his  sake  the  Father  will  receive  me  as  his 
child.'  I  replied,  '  You  had,  dear  Willy,  great 
doubts  of  your  salvation,  and  many  fears  of  death 
during  some  periods  of  your  illness.'  '  Oh  !  yes, 
indeed  I  had !  I  liave  been  on  the  verge  of  despair, 
and  have  known  its  agonies.  My  pain  of  body 
was  at  times  very  great,  but  nothing  in  comparison 
with  the  agony  of  my  spirit.  I  struggled  on  in  dark- 
ness and  in  silence.  It  was  known  only  to  myself 
and  God,  but  I  was  supported  and  carried  through 
all,  and  now  I  would  encourage  you,  my  dearest 
sister,  by  telling  you  what  succeeded  in  my  case. 
I  will  tell  you  just  what  I  did.  After  a  season  of 
much  doubt  and  terror,  during  which  I  felt  as  if  all 
was  delusion,  and  I  should  be  cast  into  hell,  I  de- 
termined to  go  at  once  boldly  to  God,  in  the  name 
of  Christ,  and  plead  the  promises  which  were  then 
before  me  in  the  Bible.     I  fell  down  upon  my  knees 

12 


266  FAMILY    PORTRAlTUIli:. 

— I  groaned — I  wept — I  prayed  most  fervently — I 
said,  Here  I  am,  Lord,  a  poor  perishing  sinner — 
my  sins  are  heavy  and  alarming — I  cannot  bear 
them  myself — I  feel  my  body  decaying — I  must 
soon  die,  and  I  dare  not  appear  before  Thee,  the 
pure  God,  as  T  now  am.  I  read  of  a  Saviour  thou 
has  provided  for  sinners,  and  I  come  to  him  to  be 
saved  from  eternal  death.  I  come  to  the  cross  of 
Christ — I  cling  to  it  as  my  only  hope.  If  thou,  O 
Christ  will  not  save  me,  no  one  else  can,  and  I 
must  perish.  Lord,  save  me — Jesus !  have  mercy 
on  me  !  I  persevered  thus  again  and  again — I  j^ept 
on  praying  in  this  way — I  took  nothing  with  me 
but  a  broken  heart,  and  a  contrite  spirit ;  and  I  said, 
''  Lord !  I  will  not  go  except  thou  bless  me !"  I 
Ifnow  I  prayed  sincerely,  and  I  was  heard  and  ans- 
wered. I  found  that  promise  true,  "  Whosoever 
Cometh  unto  me,  I  will  in  no  wise  cast  out."  God 
was  good  to  me.  My  soul  required  severe  disci- 
pline, but  he  comforted  me  in  his  own  time — ^I  found 
Christ  able  and  willing  to  do  all  I  required — I  was 
enabled  to  receive  him  as  my  complete  salvation, 
and  I  sometimes  had  such  peace  in  believing  on 
him — such  hours  of  unspeakable  happiness,  that  the 
remembrance  of  it  makes  up  for  all  this  suffering. 
I  never  again  lost  my  hope  with  Christ,  though  for 
the  moment  my  disease  overpowered  me  and  clouded 
the  past.  Now  I  tell  you  all  this  for  your  encour- 
agement and  direction.  Seek  as  I  did,  and  you  will 
find  the  same  pardon  for  sin,  the  same  peace  in 
death.'  We  next  talked  about  prayer.  I  told  him 
of  the  difficulties  I  felt.     I  remember  well  his  eager 


wilberforce's  life  concluded.  267 

look  as  he  said,  '  Not  find  comfort  in  prayer,  dear 

F ?     It  sounds  like  a  strange  contradiction  to 

me.  It  is  my  only  comfort.  When  I  am  able  to 
pray,  I  am  sure  to  be  happy,  and  my  prayer  is  that 
I  may  have  strength  and  sense  to  pray.  But  I 
must  remember  how  differently  we  are  circum- 
stanced— I  am  just  entering  eternity — I  see  every- 
thing in  a  new  light,  as  I  never  did  before — as  none 
but  a  dying  person  can  see.  All  my  thoughts  and 
feelings  are  changed.  I  have  not  memory  now  to 
recollect  how  I  used  to  fee],  when  I  first  began  to 
pray.  Perhaps  I  had  the  same  doubts — my  mem- 
ory is  gone.  Oh  !  how  the  Lord  has  humbled  me — 
I  used  to  be  so  proud  of  my  understanding.  I  can 
now  scarcely  answer  the  simplest  question.'  Pres- 
ently he  seemed  to  gather  strength,  and  said,  '  We 
were  talking  about  prayer  ;  yes,  all  my  comfort  is 
in  prayer.  There  must  be  comfort  in  prayer.  The 
chief  thing  is  to  examine  your  heart.  Ask  God  to 
search  it  for  you.  Take  care  you  are  cherishing 
no  secret  sin  or  hidden  idol.  God  is  a  merciful  God, 
but  he  is  a  jealous  God,  and  he  will  have  the  whole 
heart.  Only  persevere  in  praying,  and  indeed  you 
will  find  comfort  in  prayer.'  He  then  told  me  how 
seriously  it  had  been  impressed  upon  his  mind,  that 
his  death  was  to  be  the  lite  of  others.  '  I  think, 
my  dearly  loved  sister,  it  is  for  your  good  ;  and  will 
not  this  thought  make  you  more  in  earnest  ?  Oh  ! 
I  would  die  ten  painful  deaths  to  save  one  soul  I 
We  shall  meet  again  in  heaven.  Now  come  and 
kiss  me,  and  let  me  lean  upon  you.'  He  rested  a 
short  time  and  said,  '  Now  send  for  H ,  I  want 


268  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

to  speak  to  her  while  my  strength  lasts.'  His  con- 
versation with  her  was  very  searching,  but  very  af- 
fectionate. He  loved  this  sister  very  dearly.  She 
was  naturally  volatile  and  buoyant  in  her  spirits, 
and  this  disposition  sometimes  betrayed  her  into 
levity.  The  liveliness  of  her  conversation  had  of- 
ten pleased  him,  but  he  now  thought  he  had  en- 
couraged her  in  some  things  inconsistent  v/ith  real 
piety.  He  was  earnest  beyond  his  strength  in  con- 
versing with  her.  He  put  very  plain  and  close 
questions,  saying,  '  I  must  be  answered  ; — I  must 
speak  plainly  ; — I  am  afraid,  my  beloved  sister,  you 
do  not  think  enough  about  religion.  I  do  not  see 
decided  proofs  of  real  conversion  in  you.  I  have 
not  a  sure  hope,  that  if  you  die  as  you  now  are,  I 

shall  meet  you  in  heaven.     Oh !  H ,  it  is  my 

last  request — with  my  dying  breath  I  am  entreat- 
ing you  to  seek  the  salvation  of  your  soul.  Sup- 
pose you  were  in  my  place — in  this  chair  instead 
of  me — waiting  for  death  day  by  day — could  you 
meet  it  as  I  do  ?  Oh  !  do,  my  dear  sister  !  do  think 
of  death  while  you  are  in  health.  If  I  had  not 
sought  Christ  before  I  was  brought  so  low,  I  should 
have  no  strength  or  sense  to  seek  him  now.  I  went 
to  Jesus  as  a  poor  weak  sinner,  and  found  sweet 
rest,  and  I  am  happy  n&w  amidst  all  this  suffering.' 
He  spoke  in  a  very  affectionate  manner  of  the  sub- 
ject nearest  her  heart.  '  Your  merry  peal  will 
soon  succeed  my  death-knell.  Take  care  that  the 
good  seed  is  not  choked  by  the  pleasures  of  life ! 

Seek  first  the  kingdom  of  God.    Remember,  H , 

you  have  to  die.     Oh  !  I  cannot  leave  you  in  peace, 


wilberforce's  life  concluded.  269 

unless  I  have  a  good  hope  that  I  shall  meet  you  in 
heaven.  If  I  thought  there  was  one  amongst  you 
— oh  !  I  cannot  bear  that  thought !'     He  contmued, 

*  H ,  there  is  nothing  so   opposed  to  religion — 

to  the  mind  of  Christ — as  levity  and  trifling.  It 
will  keep  you  back  more  than  anything.  Take  my 
solemn  warning— I  speak  from  my  own  experience 
— you  will  never  be  a  consistent  Christian,  and  you 
will  never  grow  in  grace,  if  you  indulge  in  habitual 
trifling  conversation.  It  is  not  like  the  mind  of 
Christ ;  your  temper  is  very  playful  and  volatile, 
and  Satan  may  use  it  as  a  snare  to  injure  your  soul. 
Piety  and  levity  cannot  long  dwell  in  the  same 
heart.     One  will  destroy  the  other.     ^'      ^      =^      ^ 

You  see,  dear  H^j ,  I  am  very  plain  and  sincere 

I  used  to  be  so  shy.  But  I  do  not  feel  afraid  of 
speaking  my  mind  now.  How  little  does  one  care 
about  the  world  and  its  opinions  when  death  is  near; 
death  takes  away  all  reserve.  I  care  not  if  the 
whole  world  were  assembled  around  me — I  would 
tell  them  what  1  now  think  of  religion — I  should 
like  to  see  many  here,  that  I  might  tell  them  what 
the  Lord  hath  done  for  my  soul.'     He  then  sent  for 

H ,  his  favorite  brother  and  companion.    Willy 

was  much  affected.     He  seemed  to  say  farewell  to 

H with  deep  emotion.     He  entreated  him  to 

supply  his  place  in  everything — particularly  in  be- 
ing a  comfort  to  his  father,  and  filling  his  place  in 
the  ministry.  On  this  latter  subject  he  spoke  much. 
He  said,  '  From  a  child  it  has  been  my  delight  to 
think  of  being  a  clergyman  of  the  Church  of  Eng- 
land ;  but  it  is  God's  will  to  pass  me  by,  and  take 


270  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

you,  dear  H ,  and  honor   you  thus.     I  resign 

my  place  to  you.  Fill  it  faithfully.'  Then  turn- 
ing to  his  father,  he  said,  '  Give  H a  double 

portion  of  your  love.  He  is  to  fill  my  place,  as  well 
as  his  own,  to  you.  I  make  a  transfer  to  him  of 
all  the  affection  you  have  borne  to  me.'  He  paused 
for  breath,  and  then  continued,  '  We  have  loved 
each  other  very  dearly  ;  we  always  loved  as  brothers 
amidst  our  little  quarrels — did  we  not  ?  I  love  you 
now  more  than  ever,  and  I  must  talk  to  you  about 
your  soul.'  He  addressed  him  in  very  plain  lan- 
guage, asking  him  questions.  H seemed  con- 
fused and  distressed,  for  there  v/ere  others  present. 
Willy  said,  '  Poor  H ,  you  feel  shy  on  this  sub- 
ject— I  used  to  feel  the  same  oiye — I  could  not 
speak  once,  but  that  reserve  is  all  gone.  I  am  not 
ashamed  to  say  what  I  feel  now.  You  will  feel  as 
I  do,  some   day.'     He  then  begged  that  all  would 

retire  and  leave  H alone  with   him.     No  one 

heard  the  conversation  which  passed  between  them. 
He  next  sent  for  his  younger  brothers : — they  wept 
much  as  he  addressed  them.  He  spoke  very  touch- 
ingly  to  his  youngest  sister,  who  was  then  a  little 
child.      '  Would  you  like  to  meet  poor  Willy  in 

heaven,  dear  C ,  then  you  must  love  God.    Pray 

to  God  to  make  you  love  him,  and  to  make  you  a 
good  child.     Will  you  promise  me  one  thing,  my 

dear  C ,  that  you  will  never   go  out  of  your 

room  in  the  morning  till  you  have  read  a  few  verses 
in  the  Bible,  and  prayed  to  God?  If  you  do  not 
pray  to  God,  you  will  not  meet  poor  Willy  in 
heaven.     I  will  give  you  a  verse  to  think  of  when 


wilberforce's  life  concluded.  271 

I  am  dead.  "  Suffer  little  children  to  come  unto 
me,  and  forbid  them  not,  for  of  such  is  the  kingdom 
of  heaven."  Say  that  verse  to  yourself  every  night 
when  you  lie  down.' 

He  sent  for  several  people  in  the  village  to  com.e 
and  bid  him  farewell.  There  was  one  old  person 
for  whorrr  he  had  a  special  regard.  She  had  been 
much  with  him  in  his  childhood,  and  he  used  to  tell 
her,  '  if  he  lived  to  be  a  man,  and  had  a  house  of 
his  own,  she  should  come  and  keep  it.'  He  held 
out  his  hand  to  her  affectionately,  and,  alluding  to 
his  promise  said,  '  I  shall  have  no  house  in  this 
world,  Nanny,  for  you  to  come  and  keep — but  I 
shall  still  have  a  house — a,  house  not  made  with 
hands,  eternal  in  the  heavens.'  His  countenance, 
as  he  spoke,  assumed  a  singularly  sweet  and  happy 
expression — such  a  beaming  look  of  love  and  joy, 
that  every  one  noticed  it.  The  hectic  flush  glowed 
on  his  cheek — his  eyes  sparkled  with  a  peculiar 
lustre — and  the  marble  forehead  was  smooth  and 
placid.  It  was  the  parting  loveliness  of  a  body 
irradiated  by  a  soul  full  of  meekness,  calmness,  joy, 
and  confidence.  Instead  of  being  exhausted  by 
such  lengthened  conversations,  as  we  expected,  he 
seemed  full  of  vigor,  and  rather  refreshed.  He 
conversed  a  good  deal  with  both  his  parents. 
'  What  a  striking  answer,'  he  said,  '  I  have  had 
to  prayer ;  God  has  allowed  me  time  and  strength 
to  speak  to  you  all,  and  has  so  filled  me  with  sweet 
peace  and  joy,  that  I  never  could  have  conceived 
there  was  such  happiness  to  be  known  here.'  He 
then  said,    '  I  should  like  the  whole  family  to  assem- 


272  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

ble  round  me,  that  I  may  look  at  you  all  together, 
while  I  am  so  happy.'  He  then  offered  up  a  fer- 
vent and  touching  prayer  to  God,  blessing  him  for 
his  great  goodness,  and  commending  us  to  him  for 
salvation.  He  paused  a  moment  and  concluded, 
'Lord!  now  lettest  thou  thy  servant  depart  in 
peace,  for  mine  eyes  have  seen  thy  salvation.' 

"  He  remained  in  this  happy  frame  of  mind  a 
short  time,  when  all  seemed  to  pass  away  as  a 
dream :  the  fever  returned — great  suffering  suc- 
ceeded— his  whole  frame  was  agitated.  At  inter- 
vals he  referred  to  the  past  season  of  happiness, 
and  the  recollection  of  it  comforted  him.  He  re- 
peated what  he  had  before  said,  several  times,  '  I 
would  go  through  all  again  for  one  such  sweet 
hour.' 

"  In  the  evening  he  was  dejected  by  a  dread  of 
delirium,  and  prayed  earnestly  that  he  might  retain 
his  senses  to  the  last,  often  exclaiming,  '  I  cannot 
glorify  thee  in  delirium.'  He  called  this  a  happy 
day,  because  he  thought  he  had  done  good  by  his 
faithful  addresses. 

"My  father  came  to  read  and  pray  with  him, 
before  he  retired  to  rest.  Willy  said,  '  I  am  too 
tired  to  listen.  I  should  like  to  dream  of  the  past ; 
papa,  there  will  be  no  distraction  in  heaven.' 

"  Friday  was  a  mournful  day.  My  brother's 
sufferings  were  greatly  increased.  He  could  find 
no  position  in  which  to  rest.  He  breathed  with 
difficulty,  and  at  times  seemed  almost  suffocated  ; 
and  the  soul,  as  if  in  sympathy  with  the  body,  be- 
came full  of  doubt  and  terror.     He  called  out  in 


273 

great  agitation — ^  Oh  !  pray  for  me — pray  for  me — 
say  something  to  comfort  me.'  I  read  him  some 
verses  from  the  23rd  of  Isaiah.  He  continued  to 
exclaim — '  Oh !  pray  for  me,  pray  for  me  !  I  am  in 
great  suffering.'  I  opened  the  Annals  of  the  Poor, 
and  read  to  him  the  account  of  the  Dairyman's 
Daughter's  last  hours.  He  listened  attentively, 
and  then  repeated  the  words,  '  The  Lord  deals  very 
gently  with  me,  and  gives  me  peace.  It  is  not 
dark,  my  Lord  is  there,  and  he  is  my  light  and 
salvation.'  He  appeared  a  little  more  composed, 
and  I  turned  to  the  tract  of  Little  Jane.  I  read 
to  him  some  passages.  'Ah!'  said  he,  'they  got 
safe  through,  and  why  not  I  ?     I   am   glad,  dear 

F ■,    that    you    thought    of    the    Dairyman's 

Daughter  and  Little  Jane.  They  are  just  the 
examples  I  want.  They  suffered  much,  but  it 
was  not  dark  to  them.  Oh,  death  I  death !  what 
is  it  ?  I  have  still  to  go  through  death — the  dark 
valley.'  He  sat  for  some  time  in  silence,  with  his 
head  restinsj  on  tiie  table.  Thousrh  he  did  not 
speak,  I  could  perceive  that  there  was  something 
passing  in  his  mind  which  shook  his  whole  frame. 
Suddenly  with  a  wild  expression  of  countenance, 
and  in  a  bitter  tone,  he  exclaimed — '  Oh  !  agony ! 
agony  !  agony !  agony  !  I  shall  perish  after  all.'  I 
was  much  frightened,  and  went  to  call  my  father. 
I  told  him  Willy  must  be  delirious.  When  my 
father  saw  him,  he  said,  '  Oh  no !  this  is  not 
delirium.  I  know  exactly  what  he  is  passing 
through.'  He  sat  down  beside  Wilberforce,  and 
began  to  talk  soothingly  to  him,  but  he  refused  to 
12* 


274  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

be  comforted.     He  still  cried   out  with   his  whole 
remaining    strength — '  Oh  agony  I  agony  !  agony ! 
Satan  will  have  me  after  all.      Papa,   pray  for  me, 
he  tells  me  I  shall  be  lost — he  tells  me  my  sins 
will  damn  me.      Oh,  papa,  this  is  agony  I — all  is 
dark,    dark — all    gone — all    lost — and    has    Christ 
brought  me  thus  far   to   leave  me  at   last?'     My 
dear  father  was  much  overcome  at  this  scene,  and 
struggled  hard  for    composure.     He  repeated  text 
after  text;  and  with  apparent  calmness,  and  in  his 
tender  and  peculiar  manner  enlarged  on  the   faith- 
ful love  of  the  Saviour.     He  assured  Willy  of  his 
full  persuasion  that  Christ's   honor  was  pledged   in 
presenting  his  soul  safe  to  the   Father :  that  this 
was  the  last  attack  of  Satan  :  that  he  took  advan- 
tage of  his   bodily  weakness,  to   distress,  when  he 
could  not  harm  him.     But  poor  Willy  seemed  still 
more  agitated.     The  cold  drops  stood  on   his   fore- 
head— his  look  betrayed  the  deepest  anguish,   and 
he  shook  with  terror.     '  Oh  !  papa  I  what  will  be- 
come of  me,'  he  cried  ;   '  I  am  going  into  the  dark 
valley  alone.     Jesus  has  left  me.     It  is   all  dark, 
dark,  dark.      The  rod  and  the  staff  do  not  support 
me — Satan  fights  hard  for  me,  and  he  will   carry 
me  away  at  last.'     His   bodily   sufferings   seemed 
quite  forgotten,  and  were  lost  in  the  bitter  anguish 
of  his    mind,    and    he    still    continued    to    repeat, 
*  Agony — agony.'     My  dear  father  tried  again  by  a 
variety  of  arguments,  and  by  a   frequent  appeal  to 
scripture,  to   support  his  desparing    child,  but   in 
vain.     He  seemed    given  up  for   a   time  to   such 
sharp  and  sore  beset  men  ts  as  baffled  all  attemps  to 


275 

administer  comfort.  After  a  silence  of  some 
minutes,  and  when  he  seemed  nearly  fainting,  my 
dear  father  solemly  repeated,  '  Simon,  Simon, 
Satan  hath  desired  to  have  thee,  that  he  may  sift 
thee  as  wheat ;  but  I  have  prayed  for  thee,  that 
thy  faith  fail  not.'  These  were  the  first  words  that 
made  any  impression  on  Wilberforce.  He  said, 
'Ah  I  papa,  I  used  to  love  those  words,  but  they 
are  gone.  I  will  try  to  understand  them ;  say 
them  again.'  My  father  repeated  the  affecting 
words  of  the  Saviour  to  his  tempted  disciple. 
Willy  listened  to  them  with  intense  interest. 
When  he  heard  the  words,  •  but  I  have  prayed  for 
thee,  that  thy  faith  fail  not,'  he  exclaimed,  '  Oh, 
my  dear  papa,  do  you  think  that  Christ  is  praying 
for  me  ?  Does  he  pray  for  me  in  this  hour  of  dark- 
ness, when  I  have  no  faith  ?'  '  Certainly,  my  dear 
boy,  I  cannot  doubt  it.  I  am  quite  sure  he  is 
praying  for  you  at  this  instant.  Take  courage, 
then.  Do  you  think  God  will  not  hear  Christ's 
prayer  ?  '  Him  the  Father  heareth  always.'  His 
mind  became  a  little  calmer,  but  he  still  looked 
uneasy,  and  replied  slowly,  '  Can  I  have  been 
brought  to  love  him  so,  only  to  perish  ?  Can  such 
feelings  as  I  have — such  a  hatred  of  sin,  be  fitting 
me  for  hell  ?  No,  it  cannot  be.  Such  feelings 
could  not  exist  in  hell.  He  will  save  me  as  the 
chief  of  sinners.'  Presently  he  exclaimed,  '  Jesus 
has  not  left  me.  I  see  him  again — more  precious 
than  ever — my  Saviour — my  hope.  How  could  I 
distrust  him — I  am  more  than  conqueror.  Papa,  I 
feel  safe — I  am  Christ's.      Why  did  I  doubt  ?     I 


276  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

am  so  strengthened.  Dear  papa,  I  can  give  you 
no  idea  of  the  anguish  of  my  heart.  It  exceeded 
all  I  supposed  endurable  ; — I  thought  myself  in 
Satan's  hands — it  must  have  been  such  anguish  as 
this  which  made  the  Saviour  cry  out,  "  My  God, 
my  God,  why  hast  thou  forsaken  me  ?"  I  never 
knew  what  suftering  was  before — I  thought  I  was 
lost.'  '  And  what  do  you  now  think  ?'  '  I  have 
great  peace,  firm  confidence, — I  am  so  strengthened, 
papa,  in  my  faith — so  strengthened — hell  shall  not 
prevail ;  Christ  has  saved  me — none  shall  pluck 
me  out  of  his  hand.  I  should  not  be  afraid  to 
grapple  with  this  dreadful  foe  again — I  should  not 
be  afraid  if  Jesus  were  standing  by' — and  then, 
shuddering  at  his  own  recollections,  he  added,  '  But, 
papa,  I  hope  God  will  not  see  it  necessary  to  try 
me  in  this  way  again  ;  I  hope  not.  It  was  indeed 
a  dreadful  struggle.'  '  Why  say  so  V  said  his 
father,  '  it  is  possible  God  may  see  fit  thus  to  try 
your  faith  again.  You  see  how  he  has  supported 
you — 2/ou  have  been  the  conquerer — why  then 
shrink  ?' 

''  '  Oh  no  !  I  will  not  shrink,  I  could  go  through 
it  again  if  it  were  God's  will — I  could  not  see  my 
Saviour  in  that  dark  hour,  but  now  I  know  he  was 
near  me.'  And  then  shuddering  at  his  own  words, 
he  added,  '  but  I  hope  it  will  not  be  necessary  again 
to  try  me  thus.' 

"  This  last  sorrow  attached  him  more  than  ever 
to  his  father.  He  could  not  bear  that  he  should  be 
out  of  his  sight,  and  listened  to  every  word  which 
fell  from  him,  with  the  most  grateful  love  and  con- 


277 

fiding  simplicity.  He  truly  hung  upon  his  lips. 
Never  was  there  a  more  affecting  sight,  than  to  be- 
hold this  loving  father,  and  no  less  loving  son,  now 
blending  every  feeling  and  thought  of  their  hearts 
together,  and  so  closely  united  in  religious  inter- 
course, that  they  seemed  as  it  were  a  twin  soul. 

"  My  father  was  obliged  to  leave  Wilberforce  for 
a  little  while ;  on  his  return,  the  latter  looking  up 
with  a  smile  said,  '  Papa,  I  cannot  pray  now — I  am 
so  very  ill ; — but  I  have  been  praising.''  '  For 
wliat,  my  dear  boy  ?'  '  I  have  been  blessing  God 
for  giving  me  such  a  father  : — when  I  can  say  no- 
thing else,  I  can  praise  God  for  such  a  dear  father, 
to  whom  I  can  tell  all,  and  w^ho  helps  me  on  to 
heaven.'  This  was  almost  too  much  for  my  father  ; 
he  could  neither  speak  nor  weep,  he  seemed  ab- 
sorbed in  unutterable  feeling — the  fountain  of  tears 
was  dried  up. 

"  Willy  did  not  wait  for  a  reply.  '  I  am  sorry, 
papa,  I  did  not  open  my  mind  to  you  before,  how 
much  happier  I  should  have  been,  if  I  had  done  so. 
I  have  now  no  reserve — I  can  tell  you  everything. 
You  are  my  friend  and  my  guide.  My  dear,  dear 
papa,  I  do  love  you — you  have  so  helped  me  in  my 
great  trial.' 

"  In  the  evening  he  conversed  with  my  father  on 
the  bitter  agony  through  which  he  ^ad  passed  in 
the  morning,  with  calmness  and  faith.  Some  one 
present  asked  him  what  he  thought  to  be  the  best 
evidence  of  conversion — '  A  broken  heart  and  a 
contrite  spirit,'  he  replied.  '  This  is  what  I  brought 
to  God,  and  it  was  the  only  evidence  I  could  rely  on.' 


278  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

*'  The  next  day  he  expressed  some  impatience  at 
lingering  so  long,  earnestly  desiring  that  this  might 
be  his  last  day,  but  he  soon  checked  himself,  and 
prayed  against  a  restless  spirit.  He  sometimes  cried 
out,  '  How  long,  how  long !  when  shall  I  be  free  I 
How  my  spirit  struggles  to  get  away  from  this  poor 
weary  body !  Papa,  do  you  think  I  shall  linger  here 
another  day  ?  and  without  waiting  for  a  reply  he 
said,  '  but  my  times  are  in  thy  hands,  O  God — I 
must  die  daily — I  will  patiently  wait  thy  will.'  He 
called  me  to  him,  and  gave  me  a  copy  of  Miss  Jer- 
ram's  Memoir.  He  said  it  had  been  of  great  use  to 
him,  and  that  God's  dealings  with  her  had  some- 
times comforted  him.  '  We  both  passed  through 
great  sorrows,  but  God  comforted  us  both  in  his  own 

time.     Read  it,  dear  F ;  I  give  you  my  copy — 

I  have  no  further  need  of  it ;  and  may  God  bless  it 
to  you.'  He  asked  to  have  the  17th  chapter  of  St. 
John  read  to  him,  and  remarked, '  How  very  plain  is 
the  doctrine  of  that  chapter.  I  wonder  there  should 
be  so  much  controversy  about  it.' 

"  '  What  is  to-morrow?'  he  asked.  '  It  is  the  Sab- 
bath.' He  seemed  pleased,  and  earnestly  begged 
that  the  congregation  might  be  requested  to  pray 
for  him  in  the  church.  On  Sunday  morning  he 
was  much  weaker,  and  his  end  was  evidently  fast 
approaching.  'To  a  kind  friend  who  had  nursed  him, 
he  said,  '  How  do  I  look  now  ?'  She  saw  the 
approach  of  death  in  his  languid  eye  and  pallid  coun- 
tenance. '  You  look  worse,  master  Wilberforce  ;  I 
do  not  think  that  you  can  live  much  longer.'  The 
effect  produced  by  her  opinion  was  truly  astonish- 


279 


ing.  His  dim  eye  lighted  up,  all  his  features 
assumed  a  new  life,  and  turning  to  her,  he  said, 

'  Oh,  thank  you,  dear  Mrs.  G ;  good  news  !  you 

tell  me  good  news.  Shall  I  indeed  be  in  heaven  to- 
day I'  My  father  came  into  the  room.  '  Papa,' 
said  he,  'how  do  I  look — am  I  altered?'  'No, 
my  dear  boy.  I  see  little  difference  in  you.'  He 
was  evidently  disappointed.  '  Do  you  see  no  differ- 
ence V  said  he  ;  '  Mrs.  G does.    She  made  me 

so  happy.  She  thinks  I  may  die  to-day.'  My  father 
sat  with  him  the  whole  of  the  day,  while  we  were 
at  church,  and  Willy  asked  him  to  read  the  service 
for  the  visitation  of  the  sick.  He  listened  with 
devout  attention,  and  when  it  was  ended  he  said, 
*  Oh,  my  dear  papa,  what  beautiful  prayers !  what 
an  affecting  service !  it  expresses  my  whole  heart.' 

*'  He  then  said  to  his  mother,  'I  love  to  look  at 
you,  mamma.  I  love  to  smile  at  you,  but  I  want 
to  smile  at  Jesus.'  He  asked  her  to  draw  near,  and 
let  him  lean  on  her  bosom.  '  It  is  sweet  to  lean  on 
you,  dear  mamma, — but  I  long  to  lean  on  the  bo- 
som of  Jesus.'  He  conversed  with  his  father  in  the 
afternoon  for  the  last  time.  Reference  is  made  to 
this  conversation  in  his  papers  as  follows. 

"  '  Agony, — conflict, — triumph, — glorying  in  this 
second  struggle  with  Satan — expecting  another 
struggle — not  fearing  it.  The  enemy  subdued, 
bruised  under  his  feet,  Longing  to  be  in  heaven — 
not  able  to  form  any  idea  of  another  world,  yet  full 
confidence  of  being  there.  I  know  in  whom  I  am 
trusting — dreading  to  linger,  yet  bowing  to  the  will 


280  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

of  God.  His  joy  in  the  prayers  of  the  church  for 
him — Christ  will  save  me.' 

''  He  had  been  accustomed  to  teach  a  class  in  the 
Sunday  school,  and  begged  that  his  dying  message 
midit  be  written  down  and  sent  to  the  children  that 
evening.  He  had  not  been  able  to  lie  in  bed  for  a 
week,  owing  to  the  pain  in  his  side,  but  on  Sunday 
evening  he  expressed  a  wish  to  be  undressed  and 
put  into  bed,  being  inclined  to  sleep.  He  was 
accordingly  put  into  bed,  and  lay  very  tranquil  and 
comfortable.  My  father  stood  watching  beside  him 
till  he  thought  him  asleep.  He  then  went  to  his 
study,  as  he  afterwards  told  us,  to  pray  that,  if  it 
were  God's  will,  his  child  might  have  quiet  and 
ease  in  his  last  moments  ;  for  he  much  dreaded  the 
severity  of  a  dying  agony,  which  from  the  past  he 
thought  probable.  As  he  was  going  away  he  blessed 
him,  and  looking  at  him  as  he  lay,  serene  and  beau- 
tiful in  his  repose,  he  said,  '  So  he  giveth  his  be- 
loved sleep.'  Willy  opened  his  eyes  on  hearing 
these  words,  and  replied,  '  Yes,  dear  papa,  and  the 
rest  which  Christ  gives  is  sweet.'  These  were  his 
last  words.  He  immediately  sunk  into  a  long  and 
peaceful   slumber.      We   were   sitting   near    him. 

Mrs. ,  his  faithful  nurse,  stood   and   watched 

beside  him.  We  could  hear  distinctly  every  breath 
he  drew,  and  the  least  change  in  the  sound  was 
perceptible.  One  or  two  breathings  were  slower 
and  longer,  which  made  us  get  up  and  look  at  him. 
He  appeared  as  if  slumbering  very  sweetly.  There 
was  no  alteration  in  his  countenance,  and  we  were 
going   to   sit  down  again,  when  Mrs.  said, 


281 

'  Call  your  papa  immediately.'  We  did.  so,  and  he 
came  just  in  time  to  hear  his  last  sigh.  I  think  he 
awoke  from  sleep  but  felt  no  pain,  nor  was  sensible 
of  death.  My  father  raised  Willy's  head  upon  his 
arm,  and  contemplated  it  for  a  minute.  The  coun- 
tenance looked  placid,  as  if  it  had  beheld  the  Sa- 
viour's face  in  righteousness,  and  was  satisfied. 
My  father  pressed  the  lifeless  body  to  his  bosom, 
and  burst  into  a  flood  of  tears,  struggling  with  na- 
ture's anguish.  At  length  subduing  his  feelings, 
he  said,  '  ?vly  child  is  a  saint  in  glory.'  He  bid  us 
all  follow  him  to  the  study,  that  we  might  praise 
God  for  his  mercy  and  loving-kindness.  He  opened 
the  Bible  and  read  the  last  two  chapters  of  the  book 
of  Revelations,  and  then  knelt  down  and  prayed 
with  us.  Tt  was  a  moment  not  to  be  forgotten. 
Our  dear  father  appeared  so  absorbed  in  the  con- 
templation of  his  child's  entrance  into  heaven,  and 
its  union  with  the  spirits  of  the  just  made  perfect, 
as  to  be  scarcely  conscious  of  the  presence  of  his 
family  around  him. 

"Between  the  death  and  the  funeral  of  my 
brother,  my  dear  father's  mind  was  often  severely 
exercised.  Sometimes  he  would  weep,  and  say, 
'  All  thy  waves  and  storms  are  gone  over  me,'  and 
then,  '  Precious  in  the  sight  of  the  Lord  is  the 
death  of  his  saints.'  '  He  giveth  and  he  taketh 
away,  and  blessed  be  his  holy  name.'  He  would 
rise  early  in  the  morning  to  gaze  on  the  peaceful 
countenance  of  his  departed  child.  We  overheard 
him  giving  vent  to  the  mingled  emotions  of  his  heart 
in  the  chamber  of  death.     But  he  was  comforted  in 


282  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

tribulation,  and  he  returned  to  his  family,  to  soothe 
their  sorrows  with  the  comfort  wherewith  he  was 
comforted  of  God.  He  said  little,  but  his  calm  and 
subdued  spirit  bespoke  Christian  resignation.  He 
used  to  teach  us  that  disquiet  was  the  result  of 
distrust,  and  we  sa\v  in  his  silent  submission  an 
example  of  his  own  principle,  that  his  heart  trusted 
in  God.  '  Though  his  hand  be  lifted  up  to  destroy, 
yet  from  that  very  hand  do  I  expect  salvation.'* 

"  A  vault  was  opened  for  Wilberforce  under  the 
chancel.  An  incident  occurred  which  much  af- 
fected us,  and  which  showed  the  pious  and  affec- 
tionate sympathy  of  the  people  in  the  sorrows  of 
their  pastor.  The  workmen  had  not  completed  the 
vault  till  past  eleven  o'clock  at  night,  when  they 
agreed  to  descend  into  it,  and  consecrate  the  place 
which  was  shortly  to  receive  our  brother's  remains, 
by  prayer.  The  sepulchre  of  the  dead  became  holy 
ground.  They  joined  in  praises  to  him  who  is  the 
resurrection  and  the  life,  and  who  has  enlightened 
the  gloomy  grave  by  his  own  presence.  They  con- 
tinued in  prayer  till  midnight,  commending  their 
beloved  minister  to  the  grace  of  God — invoking 
blessings  on  his  family,  and  entreating  that  this 
mournful  event  might  be  overruled  to  the  increase 
of  religion  in  the  parish ; — and  may  we  not  hope 
that  prayer  was  heard  ?  The  subsequent  state  of 
the  village  may  be  described  as  life  from  the  dead. 
In  the  morning  of  my  brother's  interment,  my  father 
prayed  with  his  family.  I  trust  that  the  Spirit  of 
God  poured  out  his  special  influence  on  the  minds 

*  Leighton. 


WILBErforcb's   death.  2SS 

of  those  present.  A  friend  afterwards  observed, 
'  This  is  the  fervent  prayer  of  a  righteous  man, 
which  availeth  much.  Can  we  doubt  that  it  is 
recorded  in  heaven,  and  will  long  be  remembered 
on  earth.' 

"  From  this  time,  our  dear  father  gave  himself 
up  to  the  work  of  the  ministry  with  redoubled  dili- 
gence. The  congregations  were  large  and  attentive. 
He  went  daily  from  cottage  to  cottage  amongst  the 
poor,  warning,  exhorting,  comforting,  and  confirm- 
ing the  souls  of  the  disciples  in  the  grace  of  God. 
He  used  to  meet  persons  nearly  every  evening  in 
the  week,  for  prayer  and  exposition  of  the  Scrip- 
tures. Many  a  heart  in  Turvey  still  glows  at  the 
recollection  of  these  seasons.  There  was  a  general 
revival  of  religion  both  amongst  old  and  young,  and 
scarcely  a  day  passed  in  which  some  one  did  not 
anxiously  inquire,  '  What  must  I  do  to  be  saved  V 
There  might  be  in  this  excitement  something  that 
was  of  a  doubtful  character,  but  there  were  cer- 
tainly many  real  conversions,  and  a  general  and  in- 
creased attention  towards  religion,  unknown  at  any 
former  period.  My  father  seldom  left  his  parish,  or 
saw  any  one  out  of  his  own  family ;  to  whom  he 
became  still  more  endeared,  and  for  whose  progress 
and  improvement  in  religion  he  manifested  an 
anxiety  even  to  depression,  and  an  earnestness 
which  impaired  his  own  health.  He  had  naturally 
very  high  spirits,  and  was  at  times  playful  in  his 
conversation ;  but  now,  though  he  sometimes  smiled, 
lie  was  ever  thoughtful,  pensive,  and  silent.  He  ap- 
peared to  be  wounded  by  the  least  approximation  to 


2S4  FAMILY    POR'TRAITURE. 

levity,  and  was  continually  pressing  on  us  a  more 
serious  apprehension  of  eternity.  On  one  occasion, 
when  he  thought  we  had  indulged  in  a  conversa- 
tion too  little  in  unison  with  the  late  event — he 
made  no  remark  at  the  time,  but  the  next  morning 
I  found  on  my  table  the  following  note  : — 

"  'My  dearest  Child, 

"  '  There  is  a  degi-ee  of  relief  to  a  tender  spirit  in 
the  communication  of  its  thoughts  and  feelings. 
The  affecting  scenes  of  this  time  twelvemonth  have 
scarcely  ever  been  absent  from  my  recollection  even 
for  a  moment.  In  the  midst  of  our  (perhaps  too 
great)  hilarities,  I  have  pictured  to  my  imagination 
Willy  dying  last  week,  and  this  week  dead  in  the 
house.  Have  we  all  felt  and  done  as  much  as  we 
ought  on  this  most  affecting  occasion  ?  Is  the  sa- 
credness  and  solemnity  of  that  interesting  period  pre- 
served in  our  hearts  ?  Has  the  erection  of  another 
tablet  in  the  church  sufficiently  n:ioved  our  affections  ? 
Monday  evening  was  a  trying  hour  to  my  heart. 
My  poor  Willy  died  on  that  day,  and  as  on  next 
Sunday  we  buried  him.     Oh  !  let  you   and  I,  my 

much  loved  F ,  ponder  these  things  in  our  souls 

for  good.  Amidst  the  living,  let  us  not  forget  the 
dead.  ^         ^^         ^         # 

'"L.  R.' 

"  My  dear  father  for  many  years  had  been  accus- 
tomed to  write  pastoral  letters  to  his  parishioners, 
which  were  read  in  the  school-room  to  those  who 
chose  to  attend.  The  following  address  to  them 
was  written  soon  after  my  brother's  death. 


wilberforce's  death.  285 

''  My  dear  Friends,  Neighbors,  and 
Parishioners. 

"  In  the  midst  of  my  sorrows  at  the  removal  of 
my  dearly-loved  child,  I  wish  you  to  know  that  the 
Lord  supports  me  wonderfully.  I  cannot  yet  come 
out  amongst  you,  but  I  cannot  be  quite  silent.  I 
have  therefore  desired  my  friend  and  fellow-laborer 
to  read  this  letter  to  you.  I  have  preached  the  gos- 
pel of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  to  you  more  than  nine- 
teen years,  and  through  his  mercy  I  have  seen  some 
precious  fruits  of  these  labors  amongst  you,  but 
never  have  I  witnessed  a  more  beautiful  or  trium- 
phant evidence  that  I  have  not  taught,  preached, 
or  lived  in  vain,  than  in  the  case  of  my  dear  son, 
now  a  sharer  of  the  Redeemer's  glory  in  heaven. 
Oh,  what  a  call  for  praise,  that  he  was  not  only  my 
natural,  but  also  my  spiritual  child.  Such  was  his 
love  to  Christ,  and  Christ's  love  to  him,  that  I  am 
lost  in  wonder,  love,  and  praise.  I  am  persuaded 
there  are  many  of  you  who  feel  deeply  for  me. 
You  can  weep  with  me  when  I  weep,  and  rejoice 
with  me  when  I  rejoice.  You  have  prayed  for  my 
child.  It  was  the  delight  of  his  heart  to  hear  of 
your  love  and  sympathy,  and  he  dwelt  on  the  inter- 
est you  took  in  his  welfare,  to  the  very  day  of  his 
death.  He  was  indeed  a  boy  of  no  common  mind, 
and  the  Lord  sanctified  his  great  natural  endowments 
to  his  own  glory.  I  feel  more  and  more  every  hour 
what  a  treasure  I  have  lost ;  but  at  the  same  time 
I  see  more  and  more  what  a  blessedness  he  has  at- 
tained.    I  have  been  watching  him  at  home  and 


286  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

abroad,  with  a  parent's  eye  and  a  Christian's  heart, 
both  for  his  body  and  soul,  ever  since  disease  fast- 
ened on  his  frame  last  summer,  and  no  one  will  ever 
know  what  my  anxieties  have  been  during  that 
period.  But  I  trust  God  meant  all  for  my  good. 
The  trial,  severely  as  I  have  felt  it,  has  shown  me 
more  of  myself,  and  more  of  my  God.  My  prayers 
for  my  dear  child  have  been  abundantly  answered. 
Blessed  be  God  !  he  was  enabled  to  disclose  his 
whole  heart  to  me,  and  to  others,  before  he  was  taken 
away.  He  conversed  with  many  in  a  most  useful 
and  edifying  manner,  exhorting  them  to  prayer,  faith, 
and  holiness.  He  could  tell  them  all,  that  he  knew 
in  whom  he  trusted,  and  could  look  at  death  with 
perfect  peace.  Believe  me,  then,  when  I  tell  you, 
that  though  I  am  greatly  affected,  and  humbled  in 
the  dust  with  a  sense  of  sin  and  sorrow,  yet  that 
my  mercies  are  so  abounding  in  abounding  chastise- 
ment, that  I  can,  and  do  rejoice  in  tribulation.  Oh  ! 
may  it  work  patience,  and  patience  experience,  and 
experience  hope,  and  may  hope  make  me  more  faith- 
ful and  diligent,  that  I  be  not  ashamed  of  the  gos- 
pel in  principle  or  practice,  for  your  sakes  as  well 
as  my  own.  It  is  a  great  comfort  to  me  now,  as  I 
am  kept  from  ministering  to  you  for  a  season,  that 
you  have  one  amongst  you  who  preaches  the  same 
truth,  and  in  the  same  spirit.  May  our  common 
Lord  and  Saviour  bless  him,  and  you,  and  me  to- 
gether. I  beg  your  prayers,  at  this  season  in  par- 
ticular, for  me  and  mine.  They  are  no  longer  need- 
ful for  my  beloved  son.  Let  them  be  transferred  to 
the  surviving  members  of  my  family.     Pray  espe- 


wilberforce's  death.  287 

cially  for  those  who  watch  for  your  souls — tliat  we 
may  experience  help  and  comfort  in  ourselves,  and 
dispense  the  word  of  life  with  more  zeal  and  love. 
Pray  that  there  may  be  no  divisions  or  wanderings 
of  heart  amongst  us — that  we  may  be  all  of  one 
mind  and  judgment  in  the  things  which  make  for 
our  everlasting  peace.  Pray  that  the  young  children 
may  be  brought  up  in  the  nurture  and  admonition 
of  the  Lord.  My  dear  boy  sent  them  a  message  on 
his  dying  bed,  which  was  read  to  them  a  short 
time  before  his  believing  happy  soul  entered  into 
rest.  May  the  whole  school  "remember  it  for  his 
sake,  and  their  souls'  sake.  God  bless  you  all,  my 
dear  friends.  I  cannot  doubt,  but  that  you  will 
bear  me  on  your  hearts  to  a  throne  of  grace. 
"  '  Your  affectionate  Minister, 

''  '  L.  R.' 

"  When  my  father  resumed  his  labors  amongst 
the  people,  he  seemed  to  be  aware  of  his  declining 
health,  though  he  said  nothing  to  the  family.  His 
usual  and  only  reply,  when  we  expressed  our  fears, 
was,  '  I  must  work  while  it  is  called  to-day.  The 
night  Cometh  when  no  man  can  work.'  He  ap- 
peared moulded  into  the  spirit  of  the  Apostle,  '  affec- 
tionately desirous  to  spend  and  be  spent  in  the  ser- 
vice of  his  flock,  and  to  impart  to  them  not  only 
the  gospel  of  Christ,  but,  if  it  were  possible,  his 
own  soul  also ;  and  the  people  caught  the  holy  con- 
tagion of  his  fervent  zeal  and  love.  There  was  be- 
tween them  an  almost  unexampled  reciprocity  of 


288  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

regard,  and  desire  to  glorify  God,  and  walk  humbly, 
justly,  and  unblameably  before  him.'* 

"  You  will  receive  with  indulgence  the  overflow- 
ings of  my  heart  towards  a  father  whose  memory 
is  still  cherished  by  his  family  and  by  his  parish- 
ioners, with  the  deepest  gratitude,  and  I  hope  we 
may  add,  with  an  unfeigned  anxiety  to  walk  in  the 
steps  of  his  bright  example,  and  meet  him  again  in 
everlasting  glory. 

"Believe  me,  my  very  dear  Sir, 

"  Your  affectionate  and  faithful 


*  1  Thess.  iv.  8. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Sure  'tis  a  solemn  thing  to  die,  my  souL— Blair. 

This  only  can  reconcile  us  to  the  grave,  that  oiu'  greatest  hopes  lie  beyond 
it. — Howe. 

We  proceed,  with  the  same  view  of  illustration, 
to  notice  some  particulars  relating  to  the  third 
daughter  of  Mr.  Richmond,  who  survived  her  father 
only  a  year  and  a  half.  She  also  was  the  child  of 
faith  and  prayer,  and  equally  the  object  of  his  ten- 
der solicitude  with  the  rest  of  his  family. 

I  am  not  warranted  to  present  her  character  as 
an  instance  of  high  attainment  in  piety,  but  the 
exercises  of  her  mind  during  her  last  illness,  suffi- 
ciently disclose  the  salutary  effect  of  a  religious  ed- 
ucation, and  wdiile  we  indulge  the  pleasing  hope 
that  she  has  joined  her  beloved  father  in  the  man- 
sions of  the  blessed,  her  case  will  afford  additional 
encouragement  to  the  Christian  parent,  to  sow  in 
his  children's  hearts  the  seeds  of  eternal  life,  which, 
watered  ''  by  the  early  and  latter  rain,"  seldom  fail 
to  spring  up  and  ripen  to  reward  his  labors,  as  oc- 
casions arise  in  the  varying  circumstances  and 
events  of  life. 

This  amiable  young  woman  "possessed  an  ex- 
uberance of  animal  spirits  and  a  turn  for  the  ludi- 
13 


290  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

crous,  which  was  very  difficult  to  be  restrained 
within  the  bounds  of  discretion,  and  gave  her  dear 
father  maoh  anxiety.*'^" 

A  volatile  temper  is  in  all  cases  a  grievous  hin- 
drance to  intellectual  and  spiritual  improvement. 
Good  conversation  cinnot  consist  with  the  indul- 
gence of  "foolish  talking  and  jesting,"  and  the  mind 
is  diverted  by  it  from  solid  and  useful  pursuits. 
We  may  attempt  to  excuse  this  cast  of  character, 
and  speak  of  it  as  a  playfulness  of  temper ;  but 
after  all,  it  cannot  be  approved.  The  disposition  to 
amuse  ourselves  with  the  defects  or  peculiarities  of 
others,  may  generally  be  traced  to  vanity  in  our- 
selves,  and  is  a  habit  of  mind  wholly  inconsistent 
with  the  spirit  of  humility  and  love,  as  well  as  a 
sad  forgetfulness  of  that  solemn  caution,  •*  Every 
idle  word  that  a  man  shall  speak,  he  shall  give  an 
account  thereof  at  the  day  of  judgment."! 

There  was  not,  however,  anything  cynical  or 
severe  in  the  strain  of  this  young  person's  conver- 
sation. She  was  naturally  frank,  open,  and  kind- 
hearted,  and  to  (oblige  another  vras  a  real  satisfac- 
tion to  herself.  It  was  rather  a  thoughtless  pro- 
pensity, common  to  many  young  people,  "to  giggle 
and  make  giggle,"!  that  I  am  lamenting, 

It  is  difficult  to  speak  of  the  dead  so  as  not  to 
wound  the  tender  feelings  of  the  living,  but  when 
it  is  required  to  portray  character,  the  simple  dec- 
laration of  the  truth  is  best,  and  is  indeed  the  only 
course    consistent  with    Christian    integrity.     She 

*  Extracted  from  Mrs.  R.'s  Irtter'to  the  author, 
t  Matt.  xii.  36.  -^  Cowprr's  LetltTB. 


MEMOIR    OF    HIS    THIRD    DAUGHTER.  291 

^vbo  forms  the  subject  of  my  present  remarks,  af- 
fixed a  solemn  seal  to  their  truth  in  the  affecting 
review  which  she  took  of  the  past  in  her  dying 
hours.  It  is  a  source  of  much  congratulation  that 
she  is  now  beyond  the  opinion  of  man,  whose  im- 
perfect knowledge  renders  him  at  all  times  incom- 
petent to  pronounce  on  his  fellow  creatures,  and 
should  remind  him  of  the  danger  of  asvsuming  a 
prerogative  he  cannot  claim.  "  Judge  nothing  be- 
fore the  time." 

Mr.    Richmond    placed   his   daughter   at    school 

at ,  where  he  expected  the  strictest  attention 

would  be  paid  to  her  principles  and  conduct.  I 
have  no  reason  to  suppose  that  he  was  dissatisfied 
with  the  care  and  vigilance  of  those  to  whom  he 
had  entrusted  his  child  ;  bat  whatever  she  had 
acquired  in  other  respects,  it  does  not  appear  that 
at  the  close  of  her  education  she  had  made  any 
advancement  in  religion. 

About  this  time  Mr.  R.  addressed  the  following 
letter  to  her  ; 

"  Dear  H , 


"And  now  comes  your  turn.  Receive,  read, 
mark,  and  inwardly  digest.  I  do  not  know  how 
much  you  are  grown  in  stature,  but  I  do  hope  you 
are  growing  in  wisdom.  Then,  whether  you  are 
to  be  a  woman  tall,  or  a  woman  short,  will  signify 
very  little.  You  will,  if  your  wisdom  be  of  the 
right  kind,  be  of  a  tall  mind  and  of  tall  attain- 
ments, and  we  will  call  you  the  lit;tle  woman  with 


292  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

the  great  soul.  I  have  heard  of  a  person's  soul 
being  so  mean  and  small,  that  if  you  were  to  put  it 
into  a  hollow  mustard  seed  and  shake  it  well,  it 
would  rattle.  Now  that  is  not  the  sort  of  soul  I 
wish  to  discover  in  you.  I  want  to  see  a  soul  in 
you  which  can  embrace  all  useful  and  requisite 
knowledge — a  soul  which  can  extend  its  energies 
beyond  ordinary  limits — which  can  feel  for  all 
around  you,  and  carry  its  benevolent  activity 
throughout  the    universe — which  can  contemplate 

the  globe,  such  a  one  as  you  study  at  B ,  and 

find  new  problems  upon  it — as  how  to  carry  the 
gospel  into  all  latitudes  and  all  longitudes — how  to 
excite  pity  for  the  poor  heathen  in  every  zone  and 
climate  of  the  world — how  to  equalize  all  nations 
in  the  sympathy  of  Christian  love,  and  thus  make 
a  spiritual  equator — how  to  estimate  the  coldness 
of  irreligion  in  the  burning  regions  of  the  tropics, 
and  how  to  carry  the  lively  heat  of  evangelical 
charity  into  the  districts  of  the  poles.  I  would 
have  you  capable  of  grasping  all  these  questions  in 
your  heart,  with  as  much  ease  as  your  hands 
would  clasp  a  doll,  or  as  mine  would  clasp  your 
your  own  dear  self  to  my  bosom."  But  why  do  I 
wish  that  your  soul  may  become  thus  capacious  ? 
Simply  to  this  end — that  you  may  thereby  resemble 
him  who  so  loved  the  world,  that  he  came  into  it 

to  save   sinners  ;    yes,  sinners,   H ,   like  unto 

you.  Have  you  ever  thought  of  this  great  truth  as 
you  ought  ?  Is  foolishness  still  bound  up  in  the 
heart  of  my  child  ?  Is  human  existence  only  to  be 
estimated  by  play-things,  and  holidays,  and  all  the 


LETTERb  FRUM  HER  FATHER.        293 

&:c's.  of  a  light-minded  state  ?  What  I  a  young 
damsel  almost  fourteen  years  old,  and  no  more 
progress  in  divine  things  !  Study  your  Bible,  and 
remember  your  privileges.  Study  your  Bible,  and 
dig  deep  for  a  foundation  whereon  to  build  our 
house.  Study  your  Bible,  and  say  what  must  be- 
come of  all  the  thoughtless  little  girls  in  the  world, 
if  they  do  not  repent  and  believe.  Once  more, 
study  your  Bible,  and  learn  what  you  first  owe  to 
God,  and  then  to  your  parents,  and  then  to  brothers 
and  sisters,  then  to  teachers,  and  then  to  school- 
fellows, and  then  to  all  mankind.  Such  a  medita- 
tion will,  with  God's  blessing,  prove  a  merciful 
hour  to  your  own  soul,  and  for  the  sake  of  yours, 
to  my  soul  also.  I  hope  you  will  now  pursue  your 
education  with  earnestness.  Now  is  the  time  to 
lay  in  a  stock  of  useful  knowledge.  You  cannot 
set  too  high  a  value  oh  the  advantages  which  you 
possess.  Whether  you  eat  or  drink,  or  whatever 
you  do,  do  all  to  the  glory  of  God.  Childhood  and 
its  vanities  must  speedily  pass  away,  and  you  must 
have  done  with  childish  things.  Learn  to  pray, 
and  commit  your  whole  soul  and  body  to  Christ. 
He  is  able  to  keep  what  you  give  into  his  hand, 
unto  the  great  day  when  the  secrets  of  all  hearts 
shall  be  disclosed.  You  are  now  at  the  age  of 
which  little  Jane  did  tliis.  Are  you  like  her  ?  are 
you  as  ready  to  meet  your  God  as  she  Vv^as  ?  Ask 
the  question  of  your  heart,  and  carry  it  to  the 
throne  of  mercy,  where  all  praying  souls  are  made 
welcome.  I  hope  you  like  the  Bible-meeting  at 
Northampton.     I  wish    you    early  to    cultivate    a 


294  lAMll.V    i'OKTHAlTURi:. 

cordial,  interest  in  that  great  work — the  greatest 
work  of  tlio  age.  In  the  day  when  Dame  Eleanor's 
cross*  was  built,  the  Bible  was  unknown  to  the 
greatest  part  of  the  country.  What  a  contrast 
now  !  The  angel  flies  through  heaven  and  earth, 
presenting  it  to  all.  TIk;  stone  cross  was  once 
almost  an  idol  ;  l)ut  the  true  cross  proclaimed  in 
the  Bible,  is  the  real  Christian's  ensign,  prop,  and 
delight.     Farewell,  dear  love.      I  am 

"  Your  own  dear  father, 

"  L.  R." 

The  next  letter  was  written  to  the  same  daugh- 
ter on  her  birth-day. 

''  Dear  11 •, 


''The  return  of  a  f)irth-day  is  a  signal  for  grat- 
itude. Fourte(3n  years  ago,  as  I  sat  in  my  little 
study  at  Brading,  in  the  Isle  of  Wight,  about  six 
in  the  morning,  in  came  a  woman  bearing  in  her 
arms  a  little  baby,  and  wished  me  joy  of  the  same — 
now  this  litth;  bjiby  was  a  little  girl,  and  that  little 

girl  was  my  11 ,  and  now  is  the  loth  time  that 

joy  has  hovAi  uttered  from  year  to  year  whenever 
tiiat  day  was  named.  But  what  is  joy  ?  Is  it 
only  a  holiday  ?  But  what  is  joy  ?  Is  it  only  a 
game  of  play — is  it  merely  a  jumping  and  frisking, 
and  running,  and  chattering,  and  doll-dressing,  and 
merry-making,  and  feast-keeping?  Is  this  all  the 
joy  of  a   l/irth-day  ?     Away,  far  away  be  all  sueh 

*  This  cross  is  erected  about  a  inWe  from  NortlmmjHon,  niul  was 
once  held  in  great  veneration  by  Catholic  devotees. 


LETTERS  FROM  HER  FATHER.         295 

feeble  interpretations  of  the  word.  Then  what  is 
a  birth-day  joy  ?  Is  it  not  the  joy  of  parents,  when 
tliey  see  their  children  growing-  up  in  the  fear  of  the 
Lord,  and  in  the  practice  of  holiness  ?  Is  it  not  the 
joy  of  the  husbandman,  when  he  sees  his  crop  ripe 
and  plentiful,  and  offering  the  promise  of  harvest? 
is  it  not  the  joy  of  the  gardener,  when  he  perceives 
his  young  trees  thrive,  and  blossom,  and  bear  fruit  ? 
Is  it  not  the  joy  of  the  mother  bird,  when  after  all 
her  watchings,  and  tremblings,  and  flutterings  over 
the  nest,  she  sees  her  little  ones  begin  to  fly,  and 
become  capable  of  answering  the  end  of  divine 
providence  in  their  creation  ?  Is  it  not  the  joy  of 
the  Christian  instructor,  when,  after  hours^  and 
days,  and  months,  and  years  spent  in  warning, 
teaching,  guiding,  praying  for,  and  affectionately 
superintending  the  young  pupil's  best  interests, 
that  pupil  proves  a  living  commentary  on  the  pre- 
cepts received,  grows  in  grace,  and  love,  and  hu- 
mility, and  activity,  and  obedience,  and  as  a  bud 
of  promise  cheers  the  hearts  of  surrounding  friends 
with  prospects  of  usefulness  through  life  in  all  its 
relative  circumstances.  If  such  be  the  ingredients 
of  birth-day  joy  when  duly  estimated,  may  I  be 
gratified  in  expressing  my  joy  to-day,  and  can  you 
also  participate  in  joy  thus  appreciated?    God  bless 

you,  my  dear  H ,  on  this  day,  and  on  every  day. 

Tmie  flies,  opportunity  flies,  the  school-hour  flies, 
childhood  flies,  all  things  are  hastening  to  a  grand 
consummation — what  a  solemn  thought!  May 
my  child  conceive  and  cherish  it  to  the  glory  of 
God,  and  her  own  everlasting  consolation.      May 


296  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

Christ  become  to  her  a  gracious  Saviour,  received; 
loved  and  honored  by  her.  Such  is  the  prayer  of 
her  affectionate  father, 

On   an  occasion  of  indisposition,  Mr.  R.  writes 
again, 

"  Dear  H., 

''  My  anxious  wish  for  your  spiritual  and  temj^oral 
welfare  induces  me  to  express  my  thoughts  to  you 
in  these  little  notes.     I  cannot  tell  you  how  much  I 
desire  that  this  season  of  sickness  may  be  blessed 
of  God  to  your  present  and  everlasting  good.     This 
thought  is  continually  before  me,  and  I  pray  con- 
stantly to  him  that  you  may  be  inwardly  strength- 
ened by  the  power  of  his  might.     Examine  your- 
self    Prove   yourself     Bring  your   heart  and   all 
your  thoughts  before  God,  and  make  a  solemn  sur- 
render of  yourself  to  him.     Employ  with  gratitude 
and  patience  the  means  which  are   prescribed   for 
your  recovery,  but  trust  in  him  aione.     Physicians 
can  do  nothing  without  his  blessing  on  the  medicines. 
I  thank  God  for  your  last  note,  and  shall  be  much 
pleased  when  you  can  and  will  write  me  another. 
Above  all  things  be  much  in  prayer;  in  the  watches 
of  the  night  speak  to  God  ;  in  the  events  of  the  day, 
tell  him  how  much  you  need  and  depend  on  him. 
In  moments  of  weakness,  ask  him  for  strength  ;  i.n 
seasons  of  pain,  petition  for  contentment.     He  will 
of  his  riches  abundantly  supply  your  need.    But  you 
must  deal  faithfully  with  yourself,  and  humbly  and 


LETTERS  FROM  HER  FATHER.         297 

perseveringly  with  him.  Be  not  content  with 
merely  saying,  Christ  died  for  sinners.  Try  to  get 
an  evidence  that  yon  have  a  personal  interest  in 
him.  This  may  be  known  by  the  state  of  your 
heart  towards  him..  '  We  love  him  because  he 
first  loved  us.'  Hi.s  love  produces  love,  and  our 
iove  to  him  proves  that  he  has  loved,  and  does  love 
us.  Are  you  ignorant  ?  he  is  wisdom.  Are  you 
guilty?  he  is  righteousness.  Are  you  unholy?  he  is 
sanctification.  Are  you  a  captive  ?  he  is  redemp- 
tion. What  is  he  not  to  the  sinner  ?  his  strength  is 
perfect  in  the  believer's  weakness.  He  was  tempted 
in  all  points  like  as  we  are,  and  therefore  knows 
how  to  succor  them  that  are  tempted.  O  my 
child  I  if  yon  can  only  cleave  to  him,  and  all  that 
he  is,  and  all  he  has  promised  to  be,  nothing  can 
harm  you.  Meditate  on  these  things,  and  may  God 
make  them  quite  and  entirely  your  own.  Now  for 
a  text  for  reflection.  '  In  all  our  afflictions  he  was 
afflicted.' 

"Not  a  pang  ever  distressed  our  bodies,  nor 
a  trial  our  hearts,  but  Jesus  has  felt  it,  and  he  not 
only  felt  it  in  himself,  but  he  feels  it  for  and  in  us. 
What  a  consolation  is  here  I  This  thought  has  sup- 
ported thousands  in  their  trouble.  May  it  support 
you.  Behold  Christ  in  everything,  see  him  every- 
where, acknowledge  him  in  every  trial ;  for  he 
sympathizes  in  all  the  trials  of  them  that  are  his. 
They  have  not  one  pain  too  many.  Even  sufferings 
will  all  work  together  for  good  to  them  that  love 

him.     I  wish   my  loved   H may  see,  feel, 

believe,  and  enjoy  this  encouraging  thought,  and 
13* 


298  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

make  it  her  own.     God  love  and  bless  you.     So 
prays, 

*'  Your  affectionate  P'ather, 

"  L.  R." 

On  another  occasion  he  writes  : — 

"Dear  Love, 

"  The  heart  of  man  is  deceitful  above  all  things, 
and  desperately  wicked,  who  can  know  it?  So 
said  the  prophet  of  old,  and  so  will  every  one  say 
that  knows  the  plague  of  his  own  heart.  I  want 
you  to  employ  your  whole  time  now  in  studying 
your  heart,  that  you  may  increasingly  feel  the  need 
of  a  Saviour.  Who  else  can  cleanse  your  heart, 
but  he  who  died  for  its  salvation.  Do  not  be  con- 
tented with  a  little  religion,  a  little  knowledge,  a 
little  hope.  Press  forward  to  the  enjoyment  of  a 
great  and  gracious  religion,  much  knowledge  of 
Christ,  and  a  glorious  hope  full  of  immortality.  1 
am  indeed  most  anxious  that  you  may  now  in  right 
earnest  seek  and  find  the  Lord.  '  What  must  I  do 
to  be  saved  V  is  a  great  question.  How  shall  my 
deceitful  heart  be  renewed.  Whenever  I  die, 
whither  shall  I  go  ?  are  all  questions  connected  with 
it.  Ask  God  with  all  your  heart  for  a  right 
answer. 

"Your  affectionate  Father, 

"  L.  R." 

This  letter  was  followed  by  another   under   the 
same  circumstances. 


LETTERS  FROM  HER  FATHER.         299 

'*  Dear  Child, 

"  Your  reminding  me  not  to  forget  to  write  to 
yon,  leads  me  to  hope  that  you  read  my  little  notes 
with  a  desire  to  profit  by  them.  You  do  not  know- 
how  anxious  I  am  for  your  soul's  good.  What 
God  designs  for  you  in  the  present  illness,  I  know 
not ;  but  this  I  know,  that  you  cannot  be  too 
earnest  about  your  eternal  state.  You  cannot 
mourn  for  sin  too  deeply.  You  camiot  love  Christ 
too  affectionately.  You  cannot  trust  in  his  blood 
and  righteousness  too  firmly.  I  want  you  to  be  a 
monument  of  mercy ;  a  believing,  loving,  praying 
child.  If  God  is  pleased  to  restore  you  to  health, 
may  you  adorn  the  doctrine  which  you  have  been 
taught,  and  if  he  should  see  good  to  remove  you  to 
another  world,  O  may  you  sleep  sweetly  in  Jesus. 
Be  much  in  prayer :  '  Seek  and  ye  shall  find.' 
No  favor  is  too  great  for  God  to  grant.  You  are 
past  the  age  of  childish  ignorance,  and  are  now  an 
accountable  being. 

"  My   H ,  nothing  will  satisfy  me  short  of 

your  being  a  true  child  of  God.  What  efTect  have 
recent  events  produced  on  your  mind  ?  What  de- 
sires, what  fears,  what  hopes,  what  views  of  sin 
and  Christ?  ^  *  ^'  *  May  God  make 
you  a  joy  to  your  affectionate  father, 

^'L.  R." 

In  the  year  1825,  an  offer  of  marriage  was 
made  to  this  daughter,  of  which  Mr.  R.  expressed 
his  cordial  approbation  in  the  following  short  note. 


300  family  portraiture. 

'■'  My  dear  friend, 

*'  On  consulting  Mrs.  R.  and  our  dear   H , 

they  both  agree,  that  the  beginning  of  July  is  the 
earliest  period  at  which  the  object  in  view  can  be 
accomplished.  So  leaving  it  in  their  hands  I 
simply  put  my  seal  of  approbation  and  consent  to 
their  decision ;  and  I  do  so  with  a  heart  full  of  love 
and  esteem  for  you  both.  May  God  bless  your 
prospects,  and  your  souls  in  them.  I  love  all  my 
children  too  well  not  to  say,  that  in  committing 

H ,  into  your  hands,   I  give  you  one   of  my 

cherished  treasures,  and  sources  of  domestic  endear- 
ment. I  feel  parting  with  my  daughter  the  more, 
from  the  removal  of  my  loved,  my  much-loved  Wil- 
berforce.  His  death,  with  all  its  affecting  associa- 
tions, has  had  a  peculiar,  I  trust  a  very  useful  effect 
upon  al]  my  feelings,  sentiments,  ministrations,  pros- 
pects, and  thoughts  for  time  and  eternity.  The  sub- 
ject is  wound  up  with  my  heart's  experience,  in  a 
way  I  can  never  describe.  I  pray  God  to  overrule  it 
for  the  present  and  eternal  good  of  myself  and  my 
dear  family.     Your's  very  truly  and  affectionately, 

"L.  R." 

Previous  to  the  marriage  of  his  daughter,  Mr. 
R.  put  into  her  hands  a  paper  of  directions  for  her 
future  conduct,  which  for  simplicity,  affection,  and 
sound  practical  wisdom,  may  be  considered  one  of 
the  best  dowries  that  a  Christian  parent  could 
bestow  on  his  child. 

The  paper  is  entitled,  "  Marriage  admonitions  to 
H ,  from  her  affectionate  father,  L.  R." 


LETTERS  FROM  HER  FATHER.        301 

*'My  much-loved  Daughter, 

"  When  your  sister  Mary  left  her  patoi'nal  roof, 
I  gave  her  a  paper  of  admonitions,  which  I  request- 
ed her  sometimes  to  read  for  her  own  and  for  her 
father's  sake.  I  do  the  same  for  you,  in  the  form 
of  a  friendly  string  of  maxims,  to  regulate  your 
conduct  in  your  new  and  very  responsible  situation. 

"  1st.  Aim  at  keeping  a  devoted  heart  for  God 
in  the  least  and  most  common  transactions  of  every 
hour,  as  well  as  in  those  events  which  may  seem  to 
call  the  loudest  for  manifestations  of  religious  con- 
science and  principle. 

"2nd.  Pray  regularly  and  frequently,  not  sel- 
dom and  occasionally,  for  grace  to  live  and  die  by. 

"  3rd.  Remember  the  principles  and  professions 
of  yoLir  father's  house,  and  everywhere  endeavor  to 
preserve  its  character,  by  consistency  in  conduct, 
conversation,  and  temper. 

"  4th.  Form  no  hasty  intimacies,  and  none  what- 
ever but  such  as  may  promote  seriousness  of  heart, 
tongue,  and  demeanor. 

"  5th.  Beware  of  cheerfulness  degenerating  into 
levity,  and  ignorance  of  the  world  into  prejudice. 

"  6th.  Guard  against  hasty  judgments  of  char- 
acter, and  above  all  against  hastily  uttering  senti- 
ments, and  making  remarks  to  the  disparagement 
of  others. 

"  7th.  Wherever  you  are,  not  only  remember 
that  God's  eye  is  upon  you,  but  imagine  to  yourself 
that  your  husband  and  father  are  also  present.  It 
may  be  a  fanciful,  but  it  is  a  profitable  supposition. 

"  8th.    Keep  in  constant   recollection  the   wise, 


302  FAMILY    PORTRAITURK. 

prudent,  and  conscientious  example  of  your  dear 
mother.  Be  cautious  when  in  religious  company, 
and  endeavor  to  sustain  a  deportment  which  may 
induce  the  excelhint  of  the  earth  to  desire  your 
society  for  their  own  sake  as  well  as  yours. 

"  9th.  Particularly  avoid  making  the  errors, 
failings,  faults  or  follies  of  good  people,  either  in 
private  or  public  matters,  the  subject  of  rash  and 
unguarded  remarks.  Be  known  for  charity,  for- 
bearance, and  kindness. 

''  10th.  Keep  Christ's  golden  rule,  Luke  vi.  31, 
in  perpetual  remembrance;  it  is  the  panacea  for 
most  of  tha-  evils  of  life,  so  far  as  they  are  connected 
with  social  intercourse. 

"11th.  Entertain  no  prejudices  against  nations, 
churches,  sects,  or  parties  ;  they  are  the  bane  of 
truth,  charity,  and  comfort,  and  are  directly  op- 
posed to  the  letter  and  spirit  of  Christianity.  You 
may  and  ought  to  have  a  conscientious,  well- 
founded  preference,  but  not  one  half-formed,  ill- 
formed  prejudice  against  any  one. 

"  12th.  Be  conscientious  towards  all,  friendly 
with  few,  intimate  with  fewer  still,  strictly  confi- 
dential with  fewest  of  all. 

"  13th.  From  the  hour  you  marry,  you  assume 
the  character  of  a  matron  ;  be  not  a  childish,  girlish 
wife  ;  the  vows  of  God  are  upon  you,  sustain  their 
gravity  and  prudence  in  all  things. 

'•  14tli.  If  circumstances  and  friendly  connec- 
tions lead  you  into  the  superintendence  of  charita- 
ble institutions,  enter  upon  your  office  with  prayer 


LETTERS  FROM  HER  FATHER.         303 

and  consideration,  and  persevere  in  the  discharge  of 
its  duties  with  patience  and  well-guided  zeal. 

"  15th.  Let  no  natural  vivacity  of  temper,  no 
occasionally  indulged  sallies  of  humor  and  jocularity, 
throw  a  shade  over  the  exercise  of  solid  principle. 
Little  foolish  things  give  a  color  to  character,  and 
are  more  easily  caught  at  than  grave  and  good 
sentiments. 

"  16th.  All  eyes  are  sure  to  be  fixed  on  a  young 
wife  ;  beware  of,  while  you  conform  to,  that  sort  of 
bridal  publicity,  w^hich  is  necessarily  connected  with 
every  circle  of  residents  and  acquaintance. 

''  17th.  Choose  female  intimates  with  circum- 
spection ;  many  civil,  hospitable,  agreeable  persons, 
are  far  from  being  improving  companions  ;  we  may 
ow^e  and  pay  them  the  debt  of  civility,  kindness, 
and  gratitude,  and  yet  not  be  obliged  to  give  them 
too  much  of  our  time  and  affection.  Two  or  three 
truly  Christian  women  form  a  circle  sufficiently 
large  for  profitable  friendship. 

"  18th.  In  every,  however  small  a  circle  of  ac- 
quaintance, you  will  find  more  or  less  of  party 
spirit,  prejudice,  and  too  gi*eat  freedom  of  remark 
on  persons,  and  circumstances  connected  with  them : 
beware  of  making  one  of  these.  Be  slow  to  judge, 
rather  than  swift  to  speak ;  the  best  Christians  often 
fail  here. 

"  19th.  You  are  much  given  to  laughter,  my 
dear  child,  and  many  a  hearty  laugh  I  have  enjoyed 
with  you,  and  I  would  not  turn  your  laughter  into 
sorrow\  but  this  propensity  may  prove  a  snare  to 
you.     Watch  and   be  jealous  of   it,   banish   what 


304  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

looks  like  giggling,  lightness,  and  folly,  and  culti- 
vate a  chastened  cheerfulness  and  simplicity  of 
manner  in  all  companies. 

"20th.  Never  forget  that  you  are  entering  an 
entire  circle  of  strangers,  and  that  a  very  few  weeks 
or  months  will  establish  your  character  amongst 
them. 

"  Once  more,  I  say,  think  of  your  father's  house 
and  reputation.  When  I  look  upon  myself  and  all 
that  belongs  to  me,  I  feel  ashamed  of  my  own 
feeble,  faint  attempts  to  serve  God,  and  adorn  his 
gospel ;  yet  the  Christian  world  has  attached  to 
them,  however  undeservedly,  a  value,  and  by  the 
name  and  character  of  their  father  will  my  chil- 
dren be  tried  and  appreciated. 

'•21st.  Keep  indelibly  engraven  on  your  heart 
the  affecting  scenes  of  last  January.  A  dying 
brother's  faithful  admonitions — his  last  words,  his 
last  looks  of  mortal  affection.  Our  household  never 
witnessed  the  like,  was  never  so  tried.  The  memo- 
rials dwell  on  my  heart  with  increasing  poignancy. 
I  say  less  but  I  feel  more ;  there  is  a  solemn  silent 
softening  and  subduing  inffuence  which  often  over- 
whelms me.  May  you  retain  a  vivid  recollection, 
with  a  perpetuated  blessing,  of  that  day  when  our 
Wilberforce  ffed  from  earth  to  heaven. 

"  22nd.  Be  especially  attentive  to  the  opinion 
which  your  demeanor  may  inspire  amongst  your 
husband's  relations.  No  doubt  he  has  praised  you 
before  them ;  endeavor  to  prove  in  all  points  that  he 
has  done  you  no  more  than  justice ;  much  family 
peace  and  love  depends  upon  this. 


LETTERS  FROM  HER  FATHER.        305 

**  23rd.  There  are  many  excellent  liiiits  in  the 
book  entitled,  *  A  Whisper  to  a  new  married  pair.' 
I  recommend  them  to  your  perusal;  and  there  are 
many  more  excellent  hints  to  wives  and  women  in 
the  Bible,  from  Solomon,  Paul,  and  Peter;  study 
them  well. 

"  24th.  When  you  think  of  your  father,  bear 
with  his  infirmities,  pardon  his  faults,  but  remem- 
ber his  principles  and  instructions,  so  far  as  they 
have  been  agreeable  to  the  will  of  God. 

"  25th.  Be  not  contented  with  anything  short  of 
deep,  devoted,  diligent,  decided  seriousness.  Make 
not  the  too  numerous  half-hearted  and  decent;  but 
dubious  Christians,  your  patterns  for  imitation. 
Set  your  mark  and  standard  very  high,  and  aim 
deliberately  to  regulate  your  conduct  by  it. 

''  26th.  If  you  and  your  husband  happen  to  dif- 
fer in  opinion  or  feeling  in  any  point,  remember 
whom  you  have  promised  to  love,  honor,  and  obey, 
and  this  will  settle  all  things. 

"27th.  Of  your  husband's  warm  affections  to- 
wards you,  I  entertain  no  doubt ;  strive  to  preserve 
them  by  daily  elevation  of  character,  not  so  much 
by  fondness  as  by  prudence  and  dignity.  Study 
his  character,  he  will  study  yours.  May  you  both 
learn  to  raise  a  fabric  of  connubial  happiness  by 
mutual  wfsdom  and  love. 

"  28th.  I  trust  you  are  taught  in  the  school  of 
Christ ;  rely  not,  however,  on  the  past  privileges  of 
education,  but  seek  present  evidences,  such  as  will 
comfort  you  under  sudden  alarms  and  distresses, 
should    they  occur.     Try    to  get   acquainted  with 


306  FAMILY     rOilTRAlTLRE. 

yourself  by  a  review  of  your  whole  life,  and  often 
carry  to  the  Lord  in  prayer  and  confidence,  the  re- 
sults of  examination  into  your  heart  and  conduct. 

"  29th.  Observe  great  simplicity  and  plainness 
in  dress.  A  clergyman's  wife  should  be  a  pattern 
to  others  in  these  respects  ;  there  is  a  just  complaint 
made  of  many  females  who  profess  to  be  religious, 
that  they  are  far  too  showy  and  gay  in  their  out- 
ward apparel ; — remember  the  apostle's  injunction 
— 1  Peter  iii.  1—6. 

'*  30th.  Never  think  yourself  too  old  to  learn; 
the  most  valuable  period  of  education  is  perhaps 
from  twenty  to  forty  years  of  age.  The  matured 
mind  \s  fittest  to  become  the  little  child. 

""  31st.  You  are  bidding  farewell  to  your  fa- 
ther's house,  the  home  of  your  infancy,  childhood, 
and  youth  ;  yet  the  remembrance  of  the  principles 
in  which  you  have  been  educated  should  follow  you 
through  life,  wherever  Divine  Providence  may  see 
fit  to  call  you.  May  they  be  a  guide  to  you  at  all 
times,  a  consolation  to  you  in  your  final  removal 
from  a  sinful  and  changing  w^orld. 

"  Christ  has  been  made  known  to  you  fully  and 
freely :  let  Christ  be  your  all  in  all^  both  now  and 
forever.  Receive  my  parting  advice  in  love,  and 
be  assured,  my  beloved  child,  it  comes  from  the 
affectionate  heart 

"Of  your  dear  father, 

"  L.  R." 

A  short  time  before  her  marriage,  Miss  H.  R. 
paid  a  visit  to .     I  was  gratified  in  discovering 


LETTERS  FROM  HER  FATHER.         307 

in  a  young  woman,  not  yet  twenty  years  of  age,  so 
much  thought  and  good  sense  on  the  subjects  of 
our  conversation.  Tn  common  with  the  rest  of  her 
family,  she  entertained  a  deep  sense  of  her  father's 
affection,  consistency,  and  uniform  anxiety  for  the 
spiritual  welfare  of  his  children. 

When  I  adverted  to  her  responsibility  on  the 
ground  of  past  privileges,  and  to  the  necessity  of  a 
personal  application  of  the  principles  in  which  she 
had  been  educated,  she  observed,  "  I  know  that  re- 
ligion requires  something  more  of  me  than  respect 
for  my  father,"'  and  she  then  proceeded  to  state  to 
me  some  of  the  perplexities  of  her  mind  on  certain 
doctrines,  which  led  me  to  remark  that  young  peo- 
ple were  apt  to  begin  where  they  should  end,  and 
as  an  old  author  has  quaintly  said,  wish  '•  to  ma- 
triculate at  the  university  of  election,  before  they 
have  passed  through  the  grammar-school  of  repent- 
ance and  faith."  1  advised  her  to  lay  aside  the 
consideration  of  the  deep  thir^gs  of  God.  These, 
said  I,  are  far  beyond  the  range  of  a  young  disciple. 
The  time  may  arrive  when  such  subjects  may  be 
studied  with  advantage,  for  it  is  a  great  mistake  to 
suppose  that  God  has  revealed  anything  which  is 
unserviceable  to  his  church,  or  needless  to  be  under- 
stood ;  but  infancy,  youth,  and  manhood,  are  not 
to  be  fed  with  the  same  aliment.  I  have  no  wish 
to  conceal  from  you  that  my  mind  is  made  up  on 
these  subjects,  though  I  am  far  from  being  confi- 
dent in  the  certainty  of  my  own  conclusions  on 
points  which  are  debatable  and  still  debated  amongst 
good  and  wise  men ;  but  I  feel  no  hesitation  in  dis- 


308  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

suading  you  from  employing  your  tlioughts  on  spec- 
ulations which  at  present  will  retard  rather  than 
aid  your  progress.  To  ascertain  your  conversion, 
and  the  reality  of  your  piety,  by  the  plain  practical 
tests  of  the  Bible,  ought  to  be  your  chief  and  in- 
deed only  concern.  Admit  that  God  calls,  keeps, 
and  alone  can  bring  you  to  heaven,  and  you  know 
all  that  is  essential  to  your  salvation. 

*'  Yes,  but  if  God  does  not  call" — 

Then  call  on  him,  "  Turn  thou  me,  O  good 
Lord,  and  so  shall  I  be  turned." 

We  made  a  transition  to  her  approaching  mar- 
riage. I  alluded  to  the  pleasing  prospect  of  being 
united  to  a  man  of  principle  and  piety,  and  to  the 
satisfaction  her  father  had  expressed  in  the  antici- 
pation of  tliat  event. 

She  requested  me  to  converse  with  her  on  the 
duties  of  her  new  relation. 

You  entertain,  my  dear  young  friend,  no  doubt, 
the  usual  expectations  of  happiness  in  married  life, 
and  I  do  not  wish  to  damp  them  ;  but  I  am  com- 
pelled to  acknowledge  that  I  have  not  witnessed 
much  conjugal  felicity.  People  jog  on  in  life,  be- 
cause they  cannnot  do  otherwise  ;  if  they  are  not 
indiflerent  to  each  other,  nor  annoy  each  other  by 
contention  and  ill  humor,  they  still  appear  to  me  to 
derive  but  little  satisfaction  from  their  connection — 
little  in  comparison  of  what  the  relation  is  intended 
and  calculated  to  inspire. 

"  What  are  the  causes  of  the  disappointment  in 
such  cases  ?" 

Shall  we  say  that  there  is  want  of  affinity  of 


CONVERSATION  WITH  THE  AUTHOR.      309 

character  in  tho  parties — that  the  connection  has 
been  formed  on  some  selfish  calculation — that  a 
jnutual  though  not  designed  deception  has  been 
practised — that  greater  demands  are  made  than  a 
fallen  nature  can  answer — that  people  are  more 
tenacious  of  their  claims  than  of  their  duties,  and 
forget  that  affection  needs  cultivation  as  much,  or 
more,  after,  than  before  marriage  ? 

All  these  causes  are  fatal  to  happiness,  yet  where 
they  may  not  exist,  much  uneasiness  often  arises  in 
married  life,  from  a  disregard  to  the  ordinance  of 
God  in  that  relation.  Reference  should  be  made  to 
his  rule  and  appointment.  It  is  true  he  has  made 
the  man  a  sort  of  autocrat,  (y  dsfrnoTag) — the  head  of 
a  house,  to  superintend  and  direct  every  important 
movement  in  it ;  but  though  entrusted  with  the  chief 
power,  he  is  responsible  to  God  for  the  use  he 
makes  of  it.  Authority  is  granted  to  no  one  for 
the  purpose  of  mere  self-gratification.  The  trust 
is  abused  when  it  is  perverted  to  this  end.  Man  is 
constituted  the  head,  for  the  good  of  the  members ; 
and  he  must  rule  with  tenderness,  forbearance,  and 
affection.  Matthew  Henry  has  prettily  expressed 
the  idea,  "  God  made  woman  out  of  man's  side. 
Not  out  of  his  head  to  rule,  nor  out  of  his  feet  to 
be  trampled  on,  but  out  of  his  rib,  which  lies  near 
his  heart,  to  be  loved  and  cherished."  And  when 
man  forgets  that  his  reign  is  the  dominion  of  affec- 
tion, he  provokes  God,  by  an  abuse  and  misuse  of 
power,  to  resign  his  house  to  disorder  and"  rebellion. 

The  wife  has  also  her  place.  She  is  equal  in 
nature,  but  not  in  relation.     She  must  shine  by  re- 


310  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

flection,  and  will  suffer  an  eclipse  in  her  dignity, 
and  bankruptcy  in  her  happiness,  whenever  she  sets 
up  for  herself,  and  effects  equality  and  independ- 
ence. Her  earthly  hopes  and  satisfactions  should 
emanate  from  her  husband,  and  centre  in  him.  The 
rule  of  duty  for  a  Cliristian  wife  is,  "  in  and  for  the 
Lord."  Her  obedience  must  not  vary  with  the  ca- 
pricious influences  of  feeling,  but  rest  on  the  firmer 
basis  of  conformity  to  the  ordinances  of  God.  Af- 
fection may  make  duty  delightful,  but  it  is  not  the 
foundation  of  it.  When  a  wife  has  just  reason  to 
disapprove  of  her  husband's  conduct,  she  may  rea- 
son and  remonstrate  ;  occasions  may  unhappily  arise 
in  which  conscience  requires  dissent,  and  even  dis- 
obedience ;  but  in  general  it  is  a  woman's  privilege, 
as  well  as  duty,  to  call  her  husband  "  Lord,"  and 
to  keep  within  the  limits  which  God  has  wisely 
and  graciously  appointed. 

My  young  friend  thanked  me  for  my  instructions, 
which  she  assured  me  were  in  unison  with  her  own 
views,  and  that  she  meant  to  enter  on  her  new  re- 
lation with  these  principles. 

The  interval  between  her  marriage  and  early 
death,  might  have  been  more  fully  described  by  one 
who  is  best  able  to  appreciate  her  conduct.  But 
motives  of  delicacy,  and  regard  to  his  feelings,  have 
restrained  me  from  making  an  application  to  him, 
and  led  me  to  prefer  the  insertion  of  an  extract 
from  her  mother's  letter.     Mrs.  R.  writes  : — 

"Her  time  was  chiefly  spent  in  the  retired  duties 
of  domestic  life.  She  seldom  engaged  in  anything 
of  a  public  nature.     She  became  a  most  exemplary 


IIER    SICKNESS    AND    DEATH.  311 

and  conscientious  wife — a  fond  and  tender  mother 
to  her  little  boy,  whom  she  regarded  with  anxiety, 
and  was  preparing  to  train  in  the  principles  and 
piety  of  her  dear  father.  Increasingly  beloved  by 
her  husband,  whose  comfort  and  happiness,  on  his 
return  from  his  daily  and  laborious  occupations,  she 
assiduously  studied  to  prom^ote — her  short  day  of 
life  sweetly  glided  on,  and,  like  the  flower  of  the 
desert,  she  attracted  little  notice  beyond  the  imme- 
diate circle  of  the  few  friends  to  whom  she  attached 
herself." 

In  September,  1828,  Mrs. was  confined 

with  her  second  child.  An  account  of  the  event 
and  its  afflictive  results,  was  communicated  at  the 
time  in  the  letter  which  follows. 

^  =j.v  i'f  ^  ^  #  # 

''  I  saw  our  poor  H in  the  afternoon  after 

her  accouchement.  She  then  appeared  extremely 
well,  and  nursing  a  sweet  infant  with  a  mother's 
jo\.  Oq  Wednesday  she  complained  of  pain,  and 
passed  a  very  restless  night.     The   next  day  Mr. 

A called  in  a  physician,  who  seemed  uneasy 

at  her  symptoms,  and  enjoined  the  utmost  quiet, 
particularly  requesting  that  no  one  should  speak  of 
her  danger,  or  say  anything  to  excite  or  agitate  her 
mind.  On  Friday  she  grew  worse,  and  inquired 
if  there  was  danger,  expressing  her  own  conviction 
that  she  should  not  recover.  Her  friends,  in  com- 
pliance \Yiih  the  strict  injunctions  of  the  medical 
man,  discouraged  her  inquiries,  and  endeavored  to 
draw  her  mind  to  other  subjects.  But  in  reply,  she 
said,  '  Is  this  kind,  to  keep  my  thoughts  from  eter- 


312  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

nity  ?  I  cannot  realize  death,  and  you  will  not 
help  me.  Can  I  think  too  much  of  death?'  She 
then  inquired  for  me,  and  desired  that  I  might  be 
sent  for.  Aware  of  tlie  great  change  in  her  coun- 
tenance, as  I  entered  the  room  she  kept  her  eyes 
shut,  remarking  to  the  nurse,  '  I  will  keep  my  eyes 
shut,  I  shall  be  so  agitated  at  seeing  my  dear  sis- 
ter's distress,  she  will  see  me  so  changed.'  She 
was  indeed  changed  ;  her  countenance,  which  only 
a  week  before  had  the  bright  hue  of  health,  was 

now  pale  and  wan.     Oh !  my  dear  Mrs.  F , 

how  awful  is  the  execution  of  the  sentence  '  The 
soul  that  sinneth  it  shall  die.'  Even  where  Christ 
has  taken  away  the  sting,  the  expiring  agony  of 
death  is  terrible.  Is  it  not  a  strange  infatuation 
that  our  latter  moments  should  ever  be  absent  from 
our  thoughts — that  we  can  trifle  where  we  ought 
to  tremble,  and  be  comparatively  indifferent  to  the 
only  event  which  is  of  real  importance  to  us  ? 

"  I  was  earnestly  requested,  befr)re  I  went  into 
the  sick  room,  to  show  no  alarm  at  her  danger,  and 
avoid  conversing  upon  death.  But  I  gazed  at  her 
marble  countenance  for  a  few  moments,  and  all  hope 
of  her  life  fled.  The  particular  appearance  of  death 
cannot  be  mistaken,  and  I  resolved  to  speak  plainly 

to  her  of  her  situation.     But  H began  of  hor 

own  accord.     She  put  her  hand  into  mine  as  I  sat 

down  beside  her.     '  F ,  love,  we  meet  as  dying 

sisters  this  time.'     Dear  H ,  I  replied,  Tell  me 

how   you  feel.     '  F ,  I  feel  that  in  a  few  hours 

I  must  stand  before  the  judgment-seat  of  Christ, 
and  there  render  an  account  of  all  the  deeds  done 


HER    SICKNESS    AND    DEATH.  313 

in  the   body,  and    my  sins  press  heavy  upon    me. 

F ,  talk  to  me  about  death.     I  shall  not  recover. 

I  have  felt  assured  of  this  from  the  first,  bat  no  one 
will  talk  to  me,  even  my  dear  husband  shrinks  from 
it,  but  I  muat  speak  of  death  now.  I  hope  you  will 
converse  with  me.'  I  assured  her  of  my  intention 
and  willingness  to  do  so,  and  I  began  to  inquire  into 
the  state  of  her  mind.  She  lamented  her  sad  necrlect 
of  religion  in  days  past,  that  she  had  greatly  failed 
to  improve  opportunities,  and  had  grievously  put  off 
preparation  for  a  d3nng  hour.  '  Now,  dear  F — — , 
I  feel  the  value  of  time — novv^  I  see  why  I  was  sent 
into  tliis  world ;  my  whole  life  ought  to  have  been 

a  preparation  for  this  hour.     Oh  !  dear  F- ,  how 

time  has  been  trifled  away.' 

"  She  seemed  exceedingly  distressed  at  these  rec- 
ollections, and  particularly  referred  to  the  instruc- 
tions and  example  of  her  dear  father — and  expressed 
in  the  strongest  terms  her  gratitude  to  him  for 
teaching  her  to  honor  religion   from  her   infancy. 

'  Now,  F ,  I  feel  his  worth.    Oh,  what  a  father 

we  had — how  his  prayers,  and  entreaties,  and  holy 
example  rise  before  me.  I  never,"  never  can  express 
my  love  for  my  father.  On  a  death-bed  I  have  learnt 
his  value' — then  adding  '  but  on  a  death-bed  I  have 
learnt  my  responsibilities  for  such  a  parent.  I  shall 
.soon  have  to  answer  for  many  things,  but  I  have 
most  to  answer  for  in  having  had  such  a  parent.  I 
have  enjoyed  unparalleled  mercies  through  childhood 
and  youth.  Oh  !  I  have  much,  very  much  to  an- 
swer for.  If  /  am  saved^  it  will  indeed  be  a  mira- 
cle of  miracles — but,  F ,  I  have  a  hope,  and  I 

14 


314  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

cannot  give  up  hope.  Christ  is  my  hope  ;  his  blood 
can  cleanse  me  from  my  sins,  iintl  for  his  sake  even 
I  may  find  pardon.' 

"  She  then  named  several  of  her  friends  and  re- 
lations who  she  thought  would  b3  shocked  at  the 
intelligence  of  her  early  and  unexpected  death.  She 
sent  kind  messages  to  them.  The  poor  people  of 
'Purvey,  and  recollections  of  the  horns  of  her  youth 
seemed  much  in  her  thoughts,  and  deeply  affected 

her.     '  F ,  give  my  afl'ectionate  love  to  them  all. 

Turvey  is  very  dear  to  me.' 

"  The  state  of  one  of  her  intimate  friends  distressed 
her.  '  How  I  regret,'  alluding  to  this  lady. '  that  our 
conversation  and  intercourse  has  been  so  little  prof- 
itable to  either  of  us.  I  wish  I  could  see be- 
fore I  die.  I  have  much  I  want  to  say  to  her.  I 
want  to  press  religion  on  her  mind.  O  tiiat  I  could 
see  her  a  real  Christian  before  I  die.'  She  spoke 
much  of  her  dear  aunt,  v/ho  had  kindly  nursed  her 
all  the  week  with  the  patient  tenderness  and  affeo- 
tion  of  a  mother.  '  I  hope  my  beloved  aunt  knows 
Christ  and  his  doctrines.  I  think  I  shall  meet  her 
in  heaven.'  She  entreated  me  to  explain  the  nature 
of  religion  to  the  nurse,  '  I  am  too  weak  to  talk  to 

her  now,  but  I  hope  you  will,  dear  F .     I  am 

afraid  she  has  not  a  riglit  knowledge  of  religion. 
She  has  been  telling  me  there  can  be  no  doubt  of 
my  going  to  heaven,  because  I  am  so  good  and 
amiable.  Oh  !  this  is  false,  this  is  error,  this  is  no 
foundation  to  build  on  for  eternity.  Explain  to  her 
the  nature  of  sin,  and  salvation  by  Christ.  I  can- 
not bear  the  thought  of  leaving  that  kind  and  faith- 


HER    SICKNESS    AND    DEATH.  315 

ful  creature  in  ignorance.     I  have  been  talking  to 

,'  alluding  to  one  of  the  servants,  '  and  have 

tried  to  show  her  the  importance  of  preparing  for  an 
early  death.     I  wish   I   had  strength   to   speak  to 

nurse  also.'    H then  returned  to  the  subject  of 

her  own  departure — '  Oh  I  I  am  frightened  when  I 
think  of  dying.  I  have  not  accustomed  myself  to 
think  of  dying  as  I  ought  to  have  done.'  I  suggested 
to  her  mind  what  appeared  to  me  best  suited  to  her 
case — that  Christ  was  our  lamp  in  that  dreary  val- 
ley— our  strong  consolation  in  the  bitter  pains  of 
death.  She  replied,  '  I  can  trust  Christ  with  my 
soul.  I  can  hope  he  will  pardon  and  save  it;  but  I 
feel  alarmed  about  the  bodily  pains  of  death — they 
are  fearful  in  prospect ;  but  I  will  not  dwell  on  the 
future,  it  disturbs  me.  I  will  trust  God.'  I  said, 
'  When  thou  hadst  overcome  the  sharpness  of  death,' 
interrupting  me  she  exclaimed  with  great  emotion, 
'  Thou  didst  open  the  kingdom  of  heaven  to  all  be- 
lievers.' 

"  She  now  referred  to  Wilberforce,  and  said, 
'  Poor  Willy  went  through  this  awful  time  before 
me,  but  all  was  safe  and  happy  with  him.  I  trust 
it  will  be  so  with  me.  My  dear,  dear  father,  he  also 
has  gone  through  death.  None  of  us  know  what 
sorrow  he  endured  in  that  awful  hour.  He  was  in- 
deed a  loss  to  us  all,  but  I  am  now  glad  he  is  gone 
before  me.' 

"  The  prospect  of  leaving  her  infants  agitated 
her  mind  throughout  the  day.  '  To  be  left  with- 
out a  mother !  oh,  this  is  hard !  Oh  God,  take 
care  of  my  poor  babes  I'     Her  chief  conversation 


316  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

about  the  children  was  with  her  husband,  and  t 
believe  she  gave  him  many  directions  about  their 
education. 

"  On  Saturday  my  mother  arrived.     H was 

too  ill  to  converse  with  her,  but  she  assured  her 
that  her  own  mind  was  in  peace. 

"  My  sister  appeared  to  be  dying  the  whole  of 
Saturday  night,  but  very  gradually.  She  begged 
we  would  all  leave  the  room,  as  the  evening  came 
on,  and  that  ^he  might  be  left  alone  with  her  hus- 
band, who  sat  the  whole  of  the  night  beside  her,  to 
converse  as  her  strength  would  permit. 

"  At  six  o'clock  on  Sunday  morning,  she  desired 
that  we  might  be  called  into  the  room.     We  found 

Mr. supporting  her  in  his  arms  ;  death  was  on 

her  countenance,  she  breathed  with  difficulty,  and 

was  quite  cold.     She  said  '  I  wish  to  see  Mr. ,' 

(the  medical  man  who  attended  her  in  her  confine- 
ment). When  he  came,  she  inquired  of  him  how 
long  she  might  live ;  he  said,  perhaps  three  hours. 

She  requested  her  husband  to  send  for  Mr.  W . 

On  his  arrival  she  exerted  her  last  strength  to  con- 
verse with  him,  but  their  conversation  was  carried 
on   in  so  low  a   tone  that  I   could  not  catch  the 

whole.     I  heard   my  sister  question  Mr.  W 

most  earnestly  about  a  true  and  false  faith,  and 
whether  he  thought  her  faith  sincere  and  genuine. 
He  spoke  very  decidedly  of  the  safety  of  her  state, 
and  she  appeared  to  receive  comfort  from  his  opin- 
ion. At  her  request  he  administered  the  Lord's 
supper.  We  knelt  round  her  bed  in  silence  and 
deep  anguish.     She  clasped  her  hands,  and  seemed 


HER    SICKNESS    AND    DEATH.  317 

to  be  in  earnest   prayer  the  whole  time.     At  the 

conclusion    she    thanked    Mr.   W and    said, 

'  You  have  refreshed  me  in  body  and  mind.  This 
is  the  hour  of  extremity,  but  Christ  is  ali.'  She 
then  became  much  oppressed,  and  struggled  hard 
for  breath,  and  in  a  little  time  asked  for  her  chil- 
dren. When  the  eldest  was  brought,  she  clasped 
him  for  a  moment  to  her  breast,  and  said,  '  This 
boy  has  been  my  idol.'  She  next  begged  the  in- 
fant might  be  brought  to  her.  '  I  want  to  see  if  I 
can  bring  my  will  to  God's  will.'  The  babe  was 
placed  in  her  arms,  she  looked  at  it,  was  much 
agitated,  and  exclaimed,  '  Oh  !  take  it  away,  take 
it  away,  I  cannot  bear  this !  O  God  !  take  care 
of  my  darling  babe!'  She  followed  it  with  her  eyes 
as  the  nurse  carried  it  away,  and  seemed  to  be  in 
prayer  for  it.  She  then  took  leave  of  each  of  us 
separately.  To  her  mother  she  said,  '  I  shall  soon 
be  with  my  dear  papa.'  The  interview  with  her 
husband  was  very  aflecting.  She  was  most  ar- 
dently attached  to  Mr. .     She  desired  him  to 

kneel  down,  and  commit  her  soul  to  God  in  the 
agony  of  departure.  Presently  she  whispered,  '  I 
cannot  hear  now.'  Then — '  My  sight  is  failing — 
Oh  !  this  is  death.'  She  begged  we  would  keep 
perfect  silence,  and  lay  her  straight  down  on  the 
bed.  We  stood  motionless,  and  gazing  on  her. 
She  made  several  attempts  to  speak,  but  in  vain, 
but  I  heard  her  breathe  out  very  faintly,  '  Now  it 
begins  to  look  lovely  !'  A  moment  after,  fixing 
her  eves  nnwfird.  and    s;rnilingr  with   a  ulacid   coun- 


318  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

tenance,  she  drew  a  last  deep  breath,  and  all  was 
hushed  in  silence. 

"  Are  we  not  allowed,  my  dear  Mrs.  F ,  to 

believe  that  my  sister  has  joined  angels  and  arch- 
angels, and  all  the  company  of  heaven.  Her  short 
and  painful  ilhiess  afforded  less  scope  for  the  exer- 
cises and  evidences  of  a  renewed  heart  than  ws 
witnessed  in  the  last  hours  of  our  beloved  Wilber- 
force.  Yet  here  we  have  not  been  left  to  sorrow 
as  without  hope.  '  Beloved  for  the  father's  sake,' 
seemed  inscribed  in  characters  of  mercy  on  her 
death-bed.  The  effect  of  her  education  and  early 
acquaintance  with  the  principles  of  religion  could 
not  be  mistaken.  Her  father's  prayers  and  un- 
wearied and  affectionate  solicitude  for  his  child's 
spiritual  welfare — the  '  line  upon  line  and  precept 
upon  precept'  which  he  pressed  on  her  mind — to- 
gether with  poor  Willy's  earnest  addresses  and  en- 
treaties in  his  dying  hour,  seemed  to  recur  to  her 
with  new  force,  and  poured  a  flood  of  light,  con- 
viction, and  consolation  on  her  soul,  leading  her  in 
penitence  and  faith  to  rest  all  her  hopes  on  that 
one  oblation,  propitiation  and  satisfaction  which 
was  once  made  for  sin  by  the  Lamb  of  God,  in 
whose  precious  blood  all  transgression,  known  and 
unknown,  is  washed  away  forever. 

"Believe  me,  my  dear  Mrs.  F , 

"  I  am  your  most  affectionate,  &c." 


I  would  not  be  thought  to  cast  a  shade  on  the 
hopes  so  affectionately  expressed  in  the  above  letter, 
the  subject  of  which  is,  I  trust,  a  happy  spirit  in 


HER    SICKNESS    AND    DEATH.  319 

heaven.  Yet  I  feel  it  necessary,  as  a  Christian 
minister,  to  subjoin  a  few  salutary  cautions,  espe- 
cially to  young  people,  against  too  exclusive  a  reli- 
ance on  what  may  take  place  in  our  latter  moments. 
The  Scripture  makes  an  appeal  to  living  hours  and 
holy  fruits,  and  these  are  the  tests  on  which  we 
can  more  safely  depend.  The  gold  passes  through 
the  fire,  and  the  result  of  the  purifying  process 
alone  determines  its  character.  It  is  the  language 
of  inspiration,  "  As  a  man  sows,  so  sliall  he  reap." 
Let  me  remind  those  young  persons  whose  opin- 
ions are  correct,  but  w^ho  are  conscious  that  their 
hearts  are  yet  far  from  God,  not  to  run  the  hazard, 
the  tremendous  hazard  of  their  souls,  by  delay,  nor 
expect  peace  and  safety  at  last,  unless  they  are  now 
seeking  to  lay  up  the  support  of  a  faith  Vviiich 
w^orketh  by  love  and  obedience.  *'  It  is  the  tenor 
of  the  life,  not  that  of  the  few  morbid  and  suffer- 
ing scenes  which  precede  dissolution,  that  fixes  the 
character.  We  are  not  authorized  by  Scripture  to 
place  any  dependence  on  the  last  periods  of  sinking 
nature,  through  which  the  Christian  may  be  called 
to  pass  to  his  eternal  reward."* 

*  Life  of  the  Rev.  T.  Scott,  p.  515. 


CHAPTER   X. 

If  I  have  done  well  and  as  is  fitting  tlie  story,  it  Is  that  which  I  desired  ;  but 
if  slenderly  and  meanly,  it  is  that  which  I  could  attain  unto.— 2  Maccabees. 

In  reviewing  what  has  now  been  submitted  to  the 
public,  there  seems  little  need  of  further  comment, 
since  it  is  probable  that  the  intelligent  reader  has 
anticipated  every  suggestion  which  I  might  be  dis- 
posed to  offer. 

Of  Mr.  Richmond's  plans  for  his  children  I  must 
leave  the  Christian  parent  to  form  his  own  opinion ; 
observing,  that  whether  he  adopts  them  in  whole  or 
in  part,  he  should  never  forget  that  instruction, 
however  large  or  correct,  is  not  education — that 
true  piety  consists  not  in  a  form,  in  its  most  scrupu- 
lous use,  nor  in  a  speculation  claiming  the  bare 
assent  and  approval  of  the  mind,  nor  in  an  influence 
occasionally  to  be  felt.  It  is  a  principle  pervading 
every  faculty  of  a  man's  moral  nature.  Religion  is 
estimated  far  below  its  real  character,  when  it  is 
regarded  as  an  affair  of  dutiful  necessity,  or  as  a 
medicine  taken  for  ulterior  relief,  rather  than  as  a 
well-spring  of  life  and  health,  to  which  the  soul 
turns  for  satisfaction  and  delight,  and  without  which 
it  can  neither  be  peaceful  nor  happy.  The  truths 
of  the  Bible  may  be  taught  in  their  utmost  purity, 


CONCLUDING    REMARKS.  321 

and  yet,  unless  their  spirit  be  transfused  into  the 
affections  of  the  heart  and  the  habits  of  the  hfe, 
they  will  fall  short  of  the  effect  and  design  of  real 
Christianity.  Mere  knowledge  of  religion,  without 
a  corresponding  feeling  and  practice,  often  issues 
in  a  fatal  apathy,  and  forms  a  character  which 
becomes  at  last  impervious  to  every  sacred  im- 
pression. It  has  been  well  said  by  a  profound 
moralist,  "  To  handle  holy  things  without  feeling, 
is  to  be  cauterized  in  the  end."  It  has  been  clearly 
shown  on  what  principle  Mr.  Richmond  conducted 
his  plan  of  education ; — that  his  grand  aim  was  to 
touch  the  heart,  and  to  make  duty  and  delight 
synonymous.  Yet  some  caution  is  necessary  in  the 
exclusive  application  of  strictly  religious  principles. 
There  are  a  variety  of  motives  which  act  most 
salutarily  on  present  advantage,  and  which  impose 
powerful  restraints  on  the  impulses  of  a  corrupt 
nature ;  and  if  we  strip  a  youth  of  all  regard  for  his 
interest  or  reputation,  we  expose  him,  in  the  absence 
of  higher  motives,  to  be  driven  along  by  the  current 
of  his  own  passions,  till  he  makes  shipwreck  of  all 
that  is  valuable  for  this  world  and  the  next.  To 
this  neglect  of  inferior  motives  I  am  disposed  to 
ascribe  the  misconduct  of  many  children  of  religious 
parents ;  and  it  therefore  becomes  an  inquiry  of  no 
small  importance,  (though  of  difficult  and  delicate 
character,)  whether  the  entire  disuse  of  subordinate 
influences  is  wise,  or  even  safe  in  a  course  of 
education.  May  we  not  be  guided  in  this  inquiry 
by  the  sanction  of  the  Supreme  Ruler  himself,*  who, 

*  Ezekiel  xx.  25. 

14# 


322  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

while  he  taught  the  most  excellent  way,  formed 
laws  for  human  conduct,  and  held  out  motives  for 
obedience,  not  always  the  best  in  themselves,  but 
the  best  in  reference  to  the  circumstances  and 
capacities  of  his  creatures.  Nor  am  1  inclined  to 
reject  any  influence  for  present  advantage,  where 
there  is  nothing  opposed  to  the  spirit  or  command 
of  religion. 

Another  circumstance  which  is  often  undervalued 
in  education,  is  the  establishment  of  good  habits, 
and  that  too,  prior  to  the  full  admission  of  good 
principles.  Habits,  it  is  true,  are  formed  by  a 
series  of  actions,  and  actions  must  spring  from 
principles  of  some  kind  ;  but  the  principle  at  first 
may  be  little  more  than  custom  or  association  ;  yet 
are  the  habits  valuable,  as  preparing  a  future  power- 
ful co-operation  with  right  principle  ;  for  nothing 
proves  a  greater  obstacle  to  truth  in  opinion  than 
error  in  conduct.  There  is  a  deep  and  intimate 
knowledsje  of  the  iniiuence  of  habit  in  that  declara- 
tion  of  our  blessed  Lord,  "  If  any  man  will  do  the 
will  of  my  heavenly  Father,  he  shall  know  of  the 
doctrine  whether  it  be  of  God."   (John  vii.  17.) 

Corrupt  practice  is  a  fruit  of  darkness,  and 
increaseth  darkness ;  and  though  correct  habits  are 
not  the  cause  of  divine  light,  they  prepare  the  soil 
for  the  heavenly  seed,  and  clear  away  the  weeds 
and  thorns  which  would  check  its  vegetation,  and 
retard  its  growth.  The  language  which  reflects  on 
human  agency  as  useless,  and  even  presumptuous, 
until  a  divine  power  has  commenced  its  mighty 
operation,    is    not    in    accordance  with    reason   or 


CONCLUDING    REMARKS.  323 

Scripture,  and  a  propensity  to  form  systems,  and 
distort  the  doctrines  of  religion,  is  often  connected 
with  indolence  and  selfishness,  which  shrink  from 
the  labor  of  instruction. 

Mr.  R.'s  great  care  to  regulate  the  private  inter- 
course of  his  children,  is  another  feature  in  his 
system  of  education  which  deserves  particular 
attention.  It  is  evident  from  one  remark  in  his 
own  memoranda,  that  he  intended  to  have  urged 
this  topic  in  the  projected  memoir  of  his  son,  "The 
great  value  of  scientific  and  rational  amusement  to 
supply  materials  for  good  and  useful  conversation." 

The  unprofitable  manner  in  wdiich  hours  of  social 
intercourse  are  too  often  spent,  has  been  lamented 
by  many.  It  may  not  be  desirable,  nor  is  it  always 
profitable,  to  introduce  strictly  religious  subjects  on 
every  occasion.  Sacred  things  should  be  handled 
with  reverence  and  feeling,  or  we  shall  be  in  danger 
of  making  an  unholy  use  of  that  which  is  holy.  But 
it  is  very  possible  to  converse  on  ordinary  things  in 
the  spirit  of  religion  ;  we  may  aim  to  improve  our- 
selves or  others,  and  not  merely  pass  away  the  time 
in  tales  of  w^onder.  We  cannot  be  walking  with 
God  in  a  heavenly,  tender  frame  of  mind,  or  with 
any  just  sense  of  our  position,  as  standing  on  the 
brink  of  eternity,  while  we  propose  to  ourselves 
no  higher  object  than  amusement — no  accession 
of  ideas — no  elevation  of  devout  affections.  Can 
our  communications  *'  administer  grace  to  the 
hearer"  luhen  the  amount,  if  written  down,  ivould 
shame  a  ivise  man,  and  distress  the  mind  of  a  sin- 
cere Christian? 


324  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

There  is  also,  with  the  young  and  old,  a  preva- 
lent and  bad  habit  of  talking  of  persons  rather  than 
of  things.  This  is  seldom  innocent,  and  often 
pregnant  with  many  evils.  Such  conversation  in- 
sensibly slides  into  detraction  ;  and  by  dwelling  on 
offences,  we  expose  our  own  souls  to  contagion, 
and  are  betrayed  into  feelings  of  pride,  envy,  and 
jealousy  ;  and  even  when  we  speak  in  terms  of  com- 
mendation, "  we  are  sure  to  come  in  with  a  but  at 
the  last,  and  drive  a  nail  into  our  neighbor's  repu- 
tation."— Bacon. 

The  disuse  of  good  conversation  proceeds  from 
poverty  of  ideas,  no  less  than  from  want  of  heart- 
religion.  Persons  select  light  and  trivial  subjects, 
because  they  have  no  materials  for  a  higher  inter- 
change of  sentiment.  If  more  pains  were  taken 
to  cultivate  the  mind,  there  would  be  less  ditliculty 
in  speaking  to  edification,  and  less  need  of  having 
recourse  to  amusements,  which  differ  little  in  their 
effect  and  influence  from  others,  which,  by  common 
consent,  have  been  denounced  as  inconsistent  with 
vital  religion. 

If  the  "Domestic  Portraiture"  should  fall  into  the 
hands  of  any  one  who  has  been  accustomed  to  as- 
sociate the  idea  of  folly  and  delusion  with  a  serious 
profession  of  religion,  he  may  observe,  in  what  is 
there  detailed,  that  a  sincere  Christian  may  be  a  man 
of  taste  and  intelligence,  and  that  it  is  not  necessary 
to  be  illiterate  or  enthusiastic  to  believe  the  Bible 
and  regulate  a  family  in  accordance  with  its  princi- 
ples ; — that  elegant  accomplishments  and  a  becom- 
ing attention  to  the  usages  of  society,  as  far  as  they 


CONCLUDING    REMARKS.  325 

are  innocent  or  usefu],  may  be  found  in  alliance 
with  the  warmest  devotion,  and  a  most  conscien- 
tious regard  to  the  laws  of  God. 

In  taking  farewell  of  this  little  worlc  which  I  have 
now  brought  to  a  conclasion,  one  thought  enters  my 
mind,  and  produces  deep  emotion.  I  have  increased 
the  responsibilities  of  Mr.  Richmond's  family,  by 
holding  them  up  to  public  observation.  Wherever 
the  present  volume  may  obtain  circulation,  their 
father's  honor,  and — a  still  more  important  con- 
sideration— their  father's  principles,  will  be  inti- 
mately connected  with  their  conduct,  and  the  value 
of  them  be  appreciated  by  their  effects.  His  eye  is 
no  longer  upon  them,  nor  his  bright  example  before 
them,  neither  has  every  member  of  his  family  en- 
joyed the  full  benefit  of  his  affectionate  and  careful 
superintendence.  But  I  am  persuaded  that  the 
traces  he  has  left  are  too  deeply  engraven  ever  to 
be  erased  from  their  remembrance,  and  that  a 
father's  blessing  will  follow  them  to  the  latest  hour 
of  their  earthly  pilgrimage.  It  is  my  heart's  desire 
and  prayer  to  God,  that  they  may  retain  a  lively 
recollection  of  his  instructions,  and  continue  to  walk 
worthy  of  their  vocation,  irreprovable  and  without 
rebuke,  until  they  rejoin  their  departed  relatives, 
and  with  them  "  praise  God  for  such  a  father." 


APPENDIX. 


FRAGMENTS  RELATING  TO  LYDIA  G , 

OF    NEWCASTLE-ON-TYNE. 

The  present  volume,  as  it  has  been  already  stated, 
bears  the  title,  and  is  formed  upon  the  plan,  which 
had  been  adopted  by  Mr.  Richmond  himself,  for  a 
work  which  he  had  projected,  and  had,  in  fact, 
commenced.  But  there  was  also  found  among  his 
papers  the  outline  and  materials  of  another  nar- 
rative, intended  as  a  companion  to  his  "  Young 
Cottager,"  and  "  Dairyman's  Daughter,''  and  which 
would  probably,  if  it  had  been  filled  up  by  him, 
have  been  found  little  inferior,  either  in  interest  or 
in  usefulness,  to  those  highly-honored  memorials 
of  the  triumphs  of  divine  grace. 

But  it  must  not  be  concealed,  that  the  more 
interesting  parts  of  this  story  are,  as  far  as  this 
world  is  concerned,  forever  lost.  The  great  charm 
of  Mr.  Richmond's  former  sketches  lay  in  that 
part  of  the  story  which  was  personal,  and  which 
was  peculiarly  his  own.  His  conversations,  and 
his  meditations,  formed  always  the  most  attractive 
and  heart-atfecting  portions  of  the  tale,  and  those, 
in  the  present  case,  are  unrecorded.  That  part  of 
the  sketch  which  consisted  of  the  contributions  of 


APPENDIX.  327 

others,  remains,  being  found  carefully  preserved 
among  his  papers,  and  bearing  the  title  already  af- 
fixed to  it,  which  he  had  adopted  for  the  narrative 
itself,  which  it  was  his  intention  shortly  to  write. 
That  purpose,  like  the  plan  of  the  "  Domestic  Por- 
traiture," was  arrested  by  the  approach  of  his  last 
illness ;  and  all  that  can  now  be  done,  is,  to 
''  gather  up  the  fragments  that  remain,  that  no- 
thing be  lost." 

The  title  of  the  projected  tract,  as  left  in  his  own 
hand,  is  as  follows  : — 

"MEMORIALS  OF  LYDIA  G , 


Of  Newcastle-on-Tyne ;  who  died  Feb.  14, 1825,  aged  17  years; 
a  spiritual  child  of  'Little  Jane,  the  Young  Cottager.'" 

The  few  circumstances  which  are  recorded  of 
one  whose  life  was  passed  without  incident  and  in 
obscurity,  will  naturally  range  themselves  in  order 
of  time  as  follows  : 

The  usual  trifling  and  immaterial  circumstances 
of  her  being  named,  did  not  pass  without  Christian 
feelings  being  called  into  exercise.  Her  mother 
said,  "  I  wish  to  call  the  child  Lydia."  The  father 
answered,  "Call  her  what  thou  pleasest,  my  dear." 
But  the  eldest  sister  asked,  "  Why  would  you  call 
her  Lydia,  mother  ?  we  have  no  relation  of  that 
name."  The  mother  answered,  "  I  will  name  her 
after  Lydia,  '  the  seller  of  purple,'  my  dear  ; — and 
may  the  Lord  bless  her,  and  'open  her  heart,'  as 
He  did  that  of  Lydia,  in  the  days  of  the  apos- 
tles." 


328  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

It  is  easy  to  trace  in  this  apparently  minute  cir- 
cumstance, the  character  of  the  parent's  mind. 
Little  Lydia  was  offered  to  the  Lord,  in  the  sacra- 
ment of  baptism,  in  faith.  The  promise,  "  I  will 
pour  my  Spirit  upon  thy  seed,  and  my  blessing  upon 
thy  offspring,"  had  been  often  pleaded  in  her  behalf 
before  a  throne  of  grace  :  and  here  in  the  ordinary 
course  of  God's  dealings  with  mankind,  we  may 
trace  the  first  flo wings  forth  of  that  purpose  of 
mercy  which  became  afterwards  so  clearly  manifest 
in  the  happy  end  of  this  child. 

Lydia  manifested  from  her  infancy  what  is 
called  "  a  good  disposition."  She  was  never  known 
to  utter  a  falsehood,  or  even  to  stoop  to  an  equivo- 
cation. Simplicity  and  uprightness  marked  every 
stage  of  her  short  existence.  Towards  her  latter 
days,  a  striking  instance  of  this  occurred.  Her 
elder  sister,  under  whose  care  she  then  was  placed, 
was  naturally  very  anxious  as  to  her  health  ;  she 
being  then  in  a  very  precarious,  and  almost  danger- 
ous state.  Lydia,  who  was  then  about  seventeen 
years  of  age,  was  usually  very  obedient  to  her 
sister,  but  she  felt  much  pain  at  being  prohibited, 
in  bad  weather,  from  attending  the  public  ministry 
of  the  word.  On  one  occasion,  when  thus  left  at 
home,  she  stole  out  to  the  evening  service.  Her 
disobedience  was  undetected,  and  would  have  re- 
mained unknown.  But  such  was  the  tenderness 
of  her  conscience,  that  she  could  neither  receive 
any  enjoyment  from  joining  in  the  worship  or  hear- 
ing the  word, — nor  could  sha  rest,  till  she  had  con- 
fessed her  fault,  and  obtained  forgiveness  ;  although 


APPENDIX.  S29 

no  detection  or  even  suspicion  would  have  followed, 
had  she  maintained  her  usual  silence. 

Her  mother  died  in  the  faith  of  Christ  when  Lydia 
was  only  seven  years  of  age.  The  child's  health 
had  long  appeared  to  be  delicate  and  unsatisfactory  ; 
and  shortly  after  her  mother's  death,  her  case  was 
submitted  to  a  physician  and  a  surgeon  of  eminence. 
They  agreed  that  her  disease  was  aneurism  of  the 
heart,  for  which  there  was  no  cure  ;  but  which  bleed- 
ing might  relieve  or  retard.  This  mode  of  allevia- 
tion was  resorted  to,  but  her  strength  was  thereby 
reduced  to  the  lowest  point  consistent  with  the  con- 
tinuance of  life. 

It  was  about  this  time  that  "  The  Young  CoU 
tagef  was  placed  in  her  hands.  She  made  no  re- 
mark upon  it ;  nor  was  any  one  aware  that  its  peru- 
sal had  produced  any  unusual  effect  upon  her  mind. 
But  her  father,  writing  after  her  death,  says,  "  Al- 
though she  sat  under  an  evangelical  ministry,  yet, 
until  she  read  that  inestimable  little  book,  I  believe 
she  never  felt  the  depravity  of  her  own  heart,  nor 
sought  its  renewal  by  the  Holy  Spirit." 

In  the  course,  however,  of  a  few  months  after, 
Mr.  Richmond  himself,  in  one  of  his  journeys  for 
the  Jews'  Society^  visited  Newcastle.  Lydia's  health, 
at  this  time,  was  in  the  most  delicate  and  precarious 
state.  Her  disease  rendered  quietness  and  seclusion 
almost  necessary  to  the  hourly  continuance  of  her 
life. 

Her  sisters  were  led  to  hear  Mr.  Richmond  preach, 
and  they  mentioned  his  name  in  her  hearing.  Her 
attention  was  instantly  aroused,  and  she  eagerly  ex 


330  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

claimed,  ''  Oh !  I  must  go  and  hear  him  !  He  taught 
little  Jane  the  way  to  heaven,  and  he  will  teach  me." 
Her  sister  told  her  that  she  could  not  permit  her  to 
think  of  it  that  evening,  (Sunday,)  ill  as  she  was; 
but  that  Mr.  Richmond  was  to  preach  again  on  the 
Tiiursday,  when  she  might  perhaps  be  better.  "But," 
she  adc^ed,  "  how  will  you  be  able  to  get  there  you 
cannot  walk  ?"  "  O  dear !"  she  answered,  "  but  I  will 
try,  and  we  will  go  by  the  bye  ways,  and  you  will 
carry  me  when  I  cannot  get  on."  In  the  interval 
between  Sunday  and  Thursday,  her  sister  remarks, 
she  was  more  careful  of  her  health,  and  anxious  to 
gain  strength,  than  young  people  usually  are  when 
expecting  to  join  a  pleasure  party.  The  sisters  set 
out,  and  an  idea  may  be  inferred  of  the  state  of 
Lydia's  health,  from  the  fact,  that  they  congratulated 
themselves  on  being  so  happy  as  to  reach  the  church 
after  a  painful  struggle  of  an  hour  and  a  half.  "  Now," 
says  Lydia,  "  I  must  be  where  I  can  see  Mr.  Rich- 
mond." In  this,  too,  they  succeeded,  and  the  sister 
expected  that  when  the  service  was  concluded,  she 
would  contentedly  return  home ;  but  to  her  great 
surprise,  the  poor  girl's  agitation  increased,  and  she 
exclaimed,  "  I  must  speak  to  him  !" 

Her  sister's  astonishment  at  this  desire  was 
naturally  very  great.  Lydia,  who  was  then  under 
ten  years  of  age,  was  naturally  timid  and  bashful. 
She  was  now  in  a  weak  and  feeble  state  of  body, 
inducing  great  nervousness  ;  and  it  may  be  judged, 
from  these  circumstances,  what  must  have  been 
the  ardent  feelings  of  her  soul,  which  could  break 
through  all  these  obstructions,  and  force  her  to  seek 
14 


APPENDIX.  331 

a  conversation  with  one  so  far  renioved  from  her, 
in  age,  circumstances,  and  education,  as  Mr.  Rich- 
mond. "  My  dear  Lydia,"  said  the  sister,  "  I  can^ 
not  go  to  speak  to  him  ;  and  what  would  you  say,  if 
you  could  get  to  see  him  ?"  "  Oh  !  I  want  so  to  talk 
to  him ;  and  you  must  go  and  speak  to  him,  and 
tell  him  so.  I  am  sure  he  would  not  be  displeased  ; 
I  know  he  would  not !" 

Her  earnest  beseeching  quite  distressed  her  sister  ; 

who,  not  daring  to  go  into  the  vestry  to  Mr.  R , 

followed  him,  with  Lydia,  along  the  street,  watch- 
ing for  an  opportunity  of  addressing  him.  When 
his  pace  quickened,  Lydia  had  to  be  carried,  lest 
he  should  get  out  of  sight.  He  stopped  to  speak 
with  some  one,  and  on  his  parting  from  the  person, 
Lydia  begged  her  sister  to  go  and  speak  to  him. 
"My  dear,*'  she  replied,  "  what  can  I  say  to  him? 
you  must  speak  to  him  yourself."  "Oh!  tell  him," 
said  Lydia,  "  I  want  to  talk  to  him  about  what  he 
said  to  little  Jane  I"  Mr.  R.  reached  his  friend's 
door,  and  entered  the  house.  Her  grief  increased, 
and  she  exclaimed,  "  Oh  !  I  shall  never  see  him 
again, — oh  I  what  shall  I  do  I"  She  stood  opposite 
the  house,  weeping  and  lamenting  the  loss  of  the 
opportunity,  and  was  with  difficulty  persuaded  to 
leave  the  spot.  Her  sister,  on  returning  home,  ac- 
quainted her  father  with  her  earnest  desire,  and  her 
grief.    He  hesitated  what  to  do,  but  at  last,  through 

the    intervention  of  a    kind    friend,   Mr.  W , 

Mr.  Richmond  was  made  acquainted  with  the  cir- 
cumstance, and  called  upon  the  little  girl. 

Here   we    have   to    regret   a   deficiency   in   the 


332  FAMILY    I'UKTRAITURE. 

history,  which  no  pen  but  that  of  Mr.  Richmond 
himself  could  have  supplied.  The  conversation 
must  have  been  deeply  interesting ;  but  the  parties 
engaged  in  it  have  now  both  left  this  lower  world, 
and  we  may  suppose,  have  enjoyed  many  happy 
and  holy  hours  of  converse  in  the  abodes  of  bliss. 
A  letter,  however,  remains  to  us,  which  was  ad- 
dressed to  Lydia,  as  its  own  language  shows,  on  the 
following  day.     It  is  as  follows  : 


''Durham,  Nov.  1,  1817. 
"My  very  dear  child, 

"  As  God  in  his  tender  mercy  permitted  me  to 
witness  for  a  little  while,  yesterday  morning,  how 
much  your  heart  has  been  interested  in  the  story 
of  my  ever  dear  child  in  the  faith,  Little  Jane,  the 
Young  Cottager,  I  wish  to  tell  you  once  more  how 
sincerely  I  desire  that  it  may  please  our  gracious 
Saviour  to  make  you  like  unto  her.  If  my  little 
book  has  in  any  way  been  the  means  of  stirring  up 
in  your  young  mind  a  real  desire  to  be  found  in  the 
way  everlasting,  surely  I  may  be  permitted  to  call 
you,  in  that  respect,  one  of  my  little  ones,  and  to 
feel  for  you  something  of  a  father's  love  and  affec- 
tion. Had  I  knovv^n  your  wish  to  have  seen  me 
sooner,  I  would  have  gladly  come,  and  talked  to 
you  more  about  Little  Jane,  and  about  the  things 
that  belong  to  j'our  everlasting  peace  ; — as  it  is,  I 
feel  my  heart  strongly  inclined  to  give  you  these 
few  lines,  as  a  proof  of  my  good-will  and  true  re- 
gard for  your  soul's  welfare. 


APPENDIX.  333 

*'  Our  acquaintance,  my  dear  little  girl,  has  been 
short,  but  perhaps  both  you  and   I   feel   as    if  we 
were  indeed  friends  in  the  Lord  already.      May  my 
pras'ers  for  your  salvation  and  support  in  trials,  and 
your  patience  in  suffering,  be  answered  for  the  sake 
of  Him  who  died  upon  the  cross  to  save  sinners. 
What  a  Saviour  is  He  !     Oh  !  my  child,  seek  him, 
love  him,  bless  his  holy  naine  I     Think  of  Him  when 
you  are  in  bodily  pain,  and  remember  how  much 
greater  were  his  pains.     Think  of  him  when   you 
want  instruction,   and    may  he   be    your  wisdom. 
Think  of  him  when  you  reflect  on  your  sins,  and 
may  he  prove  your  righteousness.     Are  you  afraid 
to  come  to  him  ?     What  ?  afraid  of  him,  who  said, 
'  Suffer  the  little  children  to  come  unto  me  I'     No, 
my  dear  girl,  fear  not,  he  is  willing  that  you  should 
come,  for  he  is  the  way,  the  truth   and  the   life. 
He  is  the  way  to  heaven — there  is  none  other.     Oh  ! 
may  you  walk  in  that  way,  and  find  rest  to  your 
soul  therein.     Little  Jane  and  I  used  to  talk  about 
heaven  and  hell,  and  Christ,  and  sin,  and  mercy, 
and  pardoning  love,  till  our  hearts  burned  within 
us  ; — you  have  read  a  little  of  our  conversations,  in 
the  Annals  of  the  Poor  ;  but  that  is  only  a  small 
part  of  what  we  said  to  one  another.     I  often  think 
of  those  days  with  great  thankfulness,  and  it  makes 
me  very  glad    to  see    that   she,  though   dead,  yet 
speaketh  to  the  living  by  her  simple  story.    Behold, 
how  good  God  is !  she  died  before  you  were  born, 
yet  you  are  become  acquainted  with  her,  and  can 
see  how  the  Lord  blessed  her  in  life  and  in  death. 
Her  faith  and  love  and  humility  are  a  pattern  for 


334  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

you,  and  through  God's  loving  kindness  I  hope  you 
will  be  like  her  in  these  things. 

"  You  probably  may  be  too  young  or  too  unwell 
to  write  to  me,  and  tell  me  something  about  your 
thoughts  and  feelings,  and  what  first  made  you  feel 
a  desire  to  be  saved,  and  what  you  have  felt  when 
you  read  the  story  of  the  Young  Cottager.  I  could 
wish  to  know  more  of  your  heart,  and  what  you 
think  about  sin,  and  pardon,  and  Jesus  Christ.  But 
this  perhaps  cannot  be,  unless  some  one  should 
write  for  you  ;  but  then  every  word  and  thought 
must  be  your  own.  The  Lord  save  you,  my  child, 
and  give  you  the  gospel  blessing,  and  may  you  trust 
in  Christ  with  all  your  heart.  Remember  Little 
Jane,  and  in  your  prayers  remember  likewise, 
"Your  affectionate  friend  in  the  Lord, 

"  Legh  Richmond. 

"  Give  my  Christian  regards  to  your  sisters,  pray 
with  them,  and  may  you  all  meet  in  heaven  at  the 
last,  as  sinners  freely  saved  by  the  blood  of  Jesus 
Christ. — Farewell,  my  dear  child." 

The  conversation  and  correspondence  of  Mr. 
Richmond  was  made  the  effectual  means  of  convey- 
ing true  peace  to  her  soul.  She  was  shortly  after 
enabled  to  speak  of  her  heart,  as  being  "  filled  with 
the  love  of  God  ;"  and  to  contemplate  her  probable 
dissolution  with  joy  and  hope.  The  following  letters 
were  adressed  by  Mr.  R.  to  Lydia  and  her  sister  in 
the  course  of  the  ensuing  year.  It  will  appear 
from  these  letters,  that  both  the  sisters  were  in- 
debted, under  God,  to  Mr.  R.  for  their  first  impres- 


APPENDIX.  335 

sions  of  religion,  and  for  their  subsequent  confirma- 
tion in  the  ways  of  holiness  and  peace. 

"  And  now  once  more,  my  dear  little  Lydia,  (for 
such  I  apprehend  is  your  name.)  let  me  again  press 
you  to  my  bosom  and  talk  of  Jesus.  What  a  sweet 
name  to  the  believer's  ear  I  It  contains  all  that  a 
poor  weak  young  sinner,  like  you,  can  want.  "  His 
name  shall  be  called  Jesus,  for  he  shall  save  his 
people  from  their  sins."  Comforting  thought !  may 
it  comfort  you,  my  child,  and  render  pain,  sickness, 
trial,  welcome.  Lay  your  heart  and  all  its  troubles 
upon  that  blessed  rock  ;  cast  your  burden  upon  him, 
and  he  will  (indeed  he  will!)  sustain  you.  Disease 
may  weaken  and  destroy  your  suffering  body,  but 
it  cannot  injur(3  your  soul.  Love  him,  who  loves 
you  ;  never  be  afraid  to  ask  him  for  patience  and 
resignation,  and  he  will  show  his  tender  mercy  to 
you.  Pray,  as  well  as  you  can,  and  always  remem- 
ber that  he  is  praying  to  his  Father  for  you  ;  it  is 
this  which  encourages  us  to  go  to  him.  Your  life 
may  probably  be  a  short  one,  but  then  the  sooner 
shall  you  be  with  Christ.  Think  of  Little  Jane,  and 
how  God  supported  her ;  and  do  not  doubt  but  he 
will  freely  grant  you  the  same  help.  His  ear  is  not 
heavy,  that  he  cannot  hear,  nor  his  arm  shortened, 
that  he  cannot  save.  Let  me  hear  from  you,  if  you 
can  so  far  oblige  me,  and  trust  in  me  as  a  true 
friend.  Farewell,  dear  little  child,  and  pray  for  me, 
as  I  do  and  will  for  you. 

"  Faithfully  and  affectionately  yours  in  Christ 
Jesus,  Legii  Richmond. 

''Jan.  25. — I  received  yours  last  night." 


336  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

"  Neivcastle,  Tuesday,  12  at  night. 
"  My  dear  Children, 

"  I  cannot  do  more  than  write  two  or  three  lines 
now.  But  I  wish  to  give  you  my  blessing  before  I 
leave  the  town,  and  to  ask  you  to  write  to  me.  A 
letter  will  find  me  during  the  next  ten  days  at  the 
Rev.  Dr.  Buchanan's,  Canongate,  Edinburgh.  I 
wished  to  have  spoken  to  you  again  after  the  service 
of  the  chapel,  but  could  not  see  you.  Grace,  peace, 
mercy  and  love  be  with  you,  from  God  our  Father, 
and  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.     So  prays 

"  Your  truly  affectionate  friend, 

"  Legii  Richmond. 

"  I  hope  the  Lord  was  with  us  to-night  at  public 
worship.     I  felt  it  was  good  to  be  there." 

''  Glasgow,  June  25,  1818. 
*  My  very  dear  young  Friend, 

''  Nothing  can  be  more  fallacious  than  the  mere 
testimony  of  language,  most  especially  in  so  infan- 
tine a  case,  to  ascertain  the  genuineness  of  conver- 
sion to  God.  I  am  frequently  grieved  in  observing 
the  undue  importance  which  many  good  but  mista- 
ken people  attach  to  this  evidence.  I  am  sorry  that 
any  such  source  of  uneasiness  has  arisen  in  regard 
to  my  dear  child  Lydia,  But  it  may  eventually  be 
well ;  it  may  teach  you  to  look  more  for  solid  and 
operative  testimonies  of  true  faith  than  mere  readi- 
ness of  conversation.  I  fully  concur  with  you,  that 
the  marks  of  a  divine  chan2:e  are  far  more  satisfa>> 
torily  proved  by  such  observations  as  you  are  able  to 


APPENDIX.  337 

make,  than  can  possibly  arise  from  the  mere  expres- 
sions of  the  lips.  God  in  his  great  mercy  carry  on 
in  her  dear  soul  a  work  so  evidently  begun,  and  com- 
plete it  to  his  own  glory  in  Christ  Jesus.  I  have 
met  with  many  instances  of  the  conversion  of  souls 
in  Scotland,  owing  to  the  blessing  of  God  on  my 
feeble  performances.  Elizabeth,  William,  and  Jane, 
have  produced  several  fruits  to  God  here.  To  him 
be  all  the  glory.  I  am  constrained  to  conclude,  from 
the  hurry  of  travelling.  Perhaps  I  may  see  you 
next  month  ;  it  is  uncertain.  But  nothing  is  more 
certain  than  that  prayers  for  you,  your  sisters,  and 
family,  are  ardently  offered  up  to  heaven  by 
*'  Your  true  friend  in  Christ, 

"  Legh  Richmond. 
•'  To  Miss  E G ." 

"  Queen's  Head  Hotels  Pilgrim  Street, 
Tuesday  Morning,  9  o'clock. 
"  My  respected  young  Friend, 

"  I  am  just  arrived  here  from  Morpeth,  and  as 
my  time  will  soon  be  much  hurried  and  broken  in 
upon,  I  write  to  ask  you  in  the  first  place  whether 
it  would  be  quite  convenient  to  you  to  come  to  me 
here,  while  I  am  breakfasting,  to  save  time,  that  I 
may  have  the  pleasure  of  some  Christian  conversa- 
tion with  you  on  the  subject  of  your  last  letter  to 
me.  I  shall  also  visit  my  little  girl  while  I  am  at 
Newcastle,  but  I  thought  the  present  opportunity 
might  be  previously  desirable.     Believe  me, 

''  Yours  faithfully,  Legh  Richmond. 

u  Miss  E G ." 

15 


338  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

"  Turvey,  Jan.  24,  1818. 
*'  My  respected  young  Friend, 

"  You  have  taken  no  liberty  beyond  that  which 
every  principle  of  religious  confidence  and  esteem 
must  fully  justify.  I  have  been  long  hoping  to  re- 
ceive a  few  lines  written  by  or  in  the  name  of  your 
dear  little  sister  ;  and  now,  through  the  goodness  of 
God,  another  of  the  family  claims  me  as  a  spiritual 
friend,  and  even  father.  May  grace,  peace,  and 
mercy  rest  on  each  and  all  of  you.  I  will  say  some- 
thing first  as  it  concerns  yom-self.  At  your  period 
of  life  the  grace  of  God  is  indeed  most  valuable. 
Youth  is  a  season  of  peculiar  temptation,  and  needs 
the  strong  fortifications  of  divine  principle  in  the 
soul,  to  protect  it  from  falling  a  prey  to  a  thousand 
snares  and  devices  from  without,  and  from  as  many 
foul  corruptions  striving  for  mastery  from  within. 
'  May  you  be  preserved,  through  faith,  by  the  power 
of  God,  unto  salvation.'  Be  much  in  prayer,  and, 
like  a  wrestling  Jacob,  you  shall  prevail.  By  faith 
in  that  Saviour  who  is  the  wisdom,  righteousness, 
sanctification,  and  redemption  of  his  people,  you  shall 
triumph  over  sin,  death,  and  hell.  '  Faithful  is  he 
that  hath  promised,  who  also  will  do  it.'  Oh !  '  cast 
your  care  on  .him,  for  he  careth  for  you.'  If  the 
Lord  was  pleased  to  make  my  visit  to  Newcastle  in 
any  degree  a  comfort  or  source  of  instruction  to 
your  soul,  I  ought  to  thank  him  for  so  great  a  mercy 
to  us  both.  What  am  I  but  your  fellow  sinner  ? 
and  if  God  make  use  of  one  poor  sinner  to  minister 
help  to  another  poor  sinner,  to  whom,  but  to  him- 
self, great,  wise,  and  merciful,  can  the  praise  be  due  ? 


APPENDIX.  339 

I  shall  ever  remember  my  visit  to  Newcastle  with 
much  pleasure,  and  in  particular  I  shall  never  forget 
the  short  interview  which  I  was  permitted  to  enjoy 
in  your  house.  Your  little  sister,  ray  little  Jane, 
and  the  dear  Redeemer  of  them  both,  seemed  on  that 
morning  to  be  all  brought  to  my  affections  with  sin- 
gular emotions,  and  now  I  feel  that  there  was  another 
link  in  the  chain  of  Christian  affection  which  mercy 
bound  around  my  heart.  I  thank  you  for  enabling 
me  to  say  so.     I  heard  of  your  sister  some  time  since 

from   my  dear  and  respected  friend,  Mr.  W , 

and  I  shall  be  truly  glad  if  she  is  still  able  and  wil- 
ling to  write  to  me  herself  Pray  do  not  let  her 
imagine  that  she  need  be  afraid  of  writino^  to  me. 
I  love  my  little  lamb  too  dearly  in  the  Lord  not  to 
prize  whatever  she  can  and  will  say  to  me.  It  v/ould 
give  me  much  satisfaction  if  I  were  permitted  to  re- 
ceive some  regular  account  of  the  dealings  of  God 
both  with  her  and  with  you,  from  the  first  beginning 
of  serious  affections  in  both  your  souls.  Perhaps 
you  will  favor  me  with  them  at  your  leisure.  This 
will  confirm  our  Christian  friendship,  and  whenso- 
ever it  shall  please  the  Lord  to  take  the  dear  child 
to  himself,  will  be  a  memorial  which  I  shall  greatly 
prize.  You  may  probably  be  spared  to  serve  God 
in  your  generation,  when  she  shall  have  joined  Cher- 
ubim and  Seraphim  amongst  choirs  of  angels  and 
ransomed  spirits,  in  heaven.  Be  it  so — and  may 
you  so  taste  that  the  Lord  has  been  gracious  to  you, 
that  your  temper,  example,  conversation,  and  whole 
life  may  testify  that  you  love  him  for  all  his  good- 
ness to  your  soul.     If,  my  young  friend,  you  have 


340  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

really  felt  the  burden  of  sin,  and  have  seen  the  aw- 
ful consequences  of  remaining  in  a  graceless  state, 
what  views  will  you  have  of  the  Saviour's  character 
and  office  I  what  exalted  ideas  of  his  love  to  sinners. 
In  him  a  perfect  righteousness  is  wrought  out  for 
and  applied  to  the  believer ;  his  riches  will  supply 
your  poverty  :  his  wisdom,  your  ignorance  ;  his 
strength,  your  weakness.  Live  upon  his  fulness  by 
faith,  and  see  in  him  a  provision  abundantly  made 
for  every  difficulty  and  every  danger.  Commit 
yourself,  soul,  body,  and  spirit,  to  him.  He  is 
mighty  to  save,  and  will  save  to  the  uttermost. 

"  And  now  I  return  to  you^  ray  friend  and  corre- 
spondent :  you  wili  pardon  my  digression  to  your 
little  sister ;  God  bless  her.  I  commend  you  to 
the  Lord  and  his  grace.  Go  forward  in  that  path 
that  leads  to  glory.  Fear  not  the  lions  in  the  way  ; 
stronger  is  he  that  is  with  us,  than  they  that  are 
against  us.  Present  my  Christian  regards  to  your 
father  and  sisters  ;  remember  how  much  I  need 
your  prayers,  and  believe  me,  &c.,  &c. 

''  Turvey,  Aug.  6,  1818. 
"  My  dear  little  Child, 

"  I  thank  God  for  kindly  permitting  me  to  visit 
you  and  your  family,  when  I  lately  travelled  in  the 
North.  I  love  you  for  Jesus  Christ's  sake,  and  wish 
to  do  you  good.  But  this  must  entirely  de])end  on 
God's  blessing.  It  is  not  viy  word  but  His  that 
must  change  your  heart.  My  visits  are  only  the 
visits  of  a  poor  fellow  creature,  who  needs  the  grace 
of  the  Redeemer  as  much  as  yourself;   but  when 


APPENDIX,  341 

Christ  visits  yon,  then  there  is  triie  light  and  peace. 
Then  you  may  cry  out,  with  young  David,  "  Lord, 
what  is  man,  that  thou  art  mindful  of  him,  and  the- 
son  of  man  that  thou  visitest  him?"  My  child, 
pray  to  him — -read  his  word  daily,  and  never  be  con- 
tented \^thout  seeking  to  understand  every  word 
and  every  sentence.  Read  it  for  faith,  that  you 
may  trust  your  soul  and  body  entirely  upon  him. 
Read  it  for  the  government  of  your  temper,  that 
you  may  show  forth  the  inward  light  which  God 
gives  you,  by  patience,  kindness,  gentleness,  obedi- 
ence to  your  father  and  sisters,  and  every  becoming 
disposition  of  mind.  You  ought  to  consider  that 
3^our  life  has  been  spared  beyond  our  expectation, 
and  that  every  hour  of  it  is  a  fresh  call  for  love, 
honor,  wonder,  and  praise  to  God.  Read  the  word 
of  God  that  you  may  learn  the  value  of  time. 
Every  hour  should  have  its  due  occupation.  Read 
the  word,  that  you  may  know  how  to  feel  towards 
your  dear  friends.  For  those  who  love  and  fear 
God,  how  thankful  ought  you  to  be  !  They  watch 
over  your  soul,  and  are  daily  praying  for  you.  For 
those  who  do  not  love  and  fear  God,  how  ought 
you  to  pray  !  Who  can  tell  but  that  your  prayers 
may  be  the  special  means  of  bringing  down  bless- 
ings upon  them.  Most  especially  let  your  temper 
and  behavior  towards  them  show  that  you  yourself 
fear  God,  and  love  Jesus  Christ.  Example  and 
prayer  may  go  together  in  all  God's  children.  I 
hope  he  will  not  leave  one  of  your  brothers  and 
sisters,  without  manifesting  a  blessing  to  their  soul. 
"Will  you  write  to  me  again,  Lydia?  or,  if  your 


342  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

dear  sister  is  kind  enough  to  write  for  you,  let  every 
thought  and  every  word  be  all  your  own.     I  shall 

now  call  upon   your   young   friend  Ann  W , 

whom  I  also  love  tenderly  in  the  Lord,  to  fulfil  her 
promise  to  me,  and  I  will  say  a  few  words  to  her  on 
the  other  side.  Give  my  Christian  love  to  your 
father,  brothers,  and  sisters;  and  may  they,  you, 
and  I  meet  at  last  in  that  happy  place  where  Christ 
is  in  glory.     Pray  for  yourself,  and  for 

"Your  true  friend  in  the  love  of  God, 

"Legii  Ricii.mo^d. 

"  My  own  little  children  send  their  kind  regards 
to  you,  and  I  beg  you  will  remember  them  also 
when  you  pray." 


'''■  Monday  Evening ^  November^  1818. 
"  Dear  young  Friend, 

"  I  have  been  thinking  how,  amongst  my  numer- 
ous engagements,  I  can  best  see  you  and  yoar  sister, 

and  as  I  w^ish  also  to  call  on  Mary  H ,  I  wish 

you  would  both  come  to  her  house  on  Tuesday 
morning,  at  a  quarter  before  ten  o'clock,  and  I  will 
meet  you  there  on  my  way  to  the  chapel.  To- 
morrow I  shall  be  engaged  at  North  Shiekls,  till  it 
will  be  too  late  to  see  you  before  the  Bible  Meeting. 
On  Tuesday  I  have  a  service  at  the  chapel  at  eleven, 
then  a  meeting  of  some  young  people  about  Church 
Missionary  business,  and  a  pubHc  meeting  in  the 
evening.  On  Wednesday  evening  at  five  o'clock,  I 
go  to  Lancaster  :  you  will  see  by  this  how  much 


APPENDIX.  343 

my  time  is  occupied.  I  hope  Lydia  is  well  enough 
to  come  out.  I  wish  you  and  your  family  every 
blessing  in  Christ. 

"  Please  to  give  me  a  line.  I  was  very  much 
obliged  by  your  last  communication.  May  God 
bless  you  and  your's. 

''  I  am, 

^'Your's  very  faithfully, 

''Legh  Richmond. 
«  Miss  E G -." 

Lydia,  to  use  the  words  of  her  sister,  '^  continued 
for  about  three  years  after  this,  to  walk  in  the  light 
of  her  Redeemer's  countenance,  blessing  and  prais- 
ing God  continually."  After  this  period,  however, 
the  enemy  was.  permitted,  for  a  time,  to  gain  a 
partial  advantage  over  her.  The  sister  already 
spoken  of,  who  could  have  aided  and  protected  her 
steps  in  the  narrow  road,  was  removed  from  her  by 
marriage.  She  went  to  reside  with  another  near 
relative,  who  educated  young  ladies  in  her  own 
house.  This  new  association  with  a  variety  of  gay 
and  worldly  people,  soon  produced  its  natural  effect 
upon  Lydia's  youthful  and  ductile  mind.  Her  out- 
ward attention  to  religious  duties  continued  unre- 
laxed,  and  her  chief  enjoyment  was  still  the  wor- 
ship and  service  of  God,  but  she  lost  that  simple 
and  child-like  confidence  which  she  had  heretofore 
enjoyed  ;  she  was  secretly  unhappy,  because  in  heart 
she  had  backslidden. 

But  soon  the  Lord  sent  her  a  warning,  by  an  in- 
crease of  her  disorder,  which  brought  her  a  peni- 


344  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

tent  to  the  feet  of  Jesus,  were  she  afterwards 
recovered  her  peace  of  mind.  At  this  period,  Mr. 
Richmond,  who  had  heard  something  of  her  state, 
addressed  to  her  the  followiii":  letter. 


"  Glasgoia,  June  28th,  1822. 

"  My  dear  young  Friend, 

"  A  report  has  reached  me  that  you  are  in  a  very 
declining  state  of  health,  and  that  it  may  soon  be 
the  will  of  the  Lord  to  take  you  hence.  I  am 
desirous  of  knowing  what  the  state  of  your  mind  is, 
and  how  far  the  young  beginnings  of  religion  which 
I  witnessed  in  your  early  infancy,  have  at  length 
ripened  into  a  due  preparation  of  heart  to  meet  your 
God  in  eternity.  Has  the  blessing  of  the  Saviour 
accompanied  the  means  of  grace  to  your  soul  ?  Can 
you  rest  your  all  upon  him  who  died  to  save  sinners? 
Can  you,  with  little  Jane,  the  Young  Cottager, 
commit  yourself  to  God  as  a  faithful  Creator,  and 
sure  Redeemer  ?  Have  the  pains  of  your  body 
been  sanctified  to  the  instruction  and  consolation  of 
your  soul  ?  Do  you  feel  yourself  to  be  a  lost,  un- 
done, and  helpless  sinner  ?  Can  you  flee  to  the 
strong  One  for  help,  and  see  wisdom,  righteousness, 
sanctification,  and  redemption  in  Christ  ?  Have  you 
really  sought  the  pardon  of  your  manifold  offences 
against  God  ?  If  you  cannot  write  me  these  things 
yourself,  ask  your  sister  Elizabeth  to  do  it  for  you. 
I  have  often  thought  of  you  with  mingled  hopes 
and  fears.     May  God  answer  my  prayers  for  your 


APPENDIX.  345 

sake.     Give  my  Christian  regards  to  your  father 
and  sisters,  and  believe  me, 

'^  Your  sincere  friend  in  the  Lord, 

''  Legh  Richmond." 

Of  her  own  letters  to  Mr.  Richmond,  no  traces 
remain.  A  short  note  to  a  young  friend,  written 
about  this  period,  is  the  only  specimen  we  have  of 
her  train  of  thought  and  experience,  but  it  will  be 
seen  from  it  that  she  recognizes  the  afflicting  hand 
of  God,  as  having  a  second  time  brought  her  back 
to  his  fold, 

"  My  dear  Alice, 

"  I  received  yours,  for  which  I  return  my  most 
grateful  thanks.  My  dear  friend,  I  sympathize  with 
you  in  the  death  of  poor  little  Rebecca.  I  heard  of 
it  soon  after ;  I  think  your  brother  told  me.  You 
truly  say  there  is  no  passing  through  this  world 
without  trouble  ;  when  we  look  around  we  see  noth- 
ing but  confusion,  but  in  the  breast  of  the  Christian 
there  is  solid  happiness.  You  know  this  very  well ; 
but  I  hope,  my  love,  you  feel  it  too.  Oh  that  we 
could  cast  our  care  upon  Him  that  caretli  for  us.  See 
how  He  invites  us  to  draw  near  and  taste  that  He 
.is  gracious.  I  have  much  cause  to  be  thankful  for 
my  afflictions,  for  He  has  brought  me  a  second  time 
into  His  fold.  O  let  us  not  waste  our  youth  in  do- 
ing nothing  for  our  Saviour.  Dear  friend,  if  you 
have  felt  any  of  these  things,  as  I  trust  you  have, 
do  write  and  tell  me  of  the  Lord's  dealings  with  your 
soul ;  it  would  so  delight  my  heart  to  have  a  friend 

15^ 


346  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

like  you  to  go  hand  in  hand  to  that  heavenly  country. 
Remember,  ray  friend,  this  is  not  our  home ;  we 
have  a  house  not  made  with  hands,  eternal  in  the 
heavens,  and  we  have  a  crown  of  glory  that  fadeth 
not  away. — What  encouragement  for  young  people! 
He  has  said,  "They  that  seek  me  early  shall  find 
me  ;"  then  let  us  take  up  our  cross  daily  and  follow 
Him  who  hath  bought  us  with  His  own  blood  ;  but 
I  need  not  say  more  at  present,  as  I  know  you  are 
well  acquainted  with  the  subject.  So  adieu,  my 
dear,  and  believe  me, 

"  Your's  affectionately, 

u  Lydia  G ." 

Her  disorder  began  soon  after  this  to  make  such 
progi-ess  as  gave  warning  of  her  approaching  disso- 
lution. In  the  near  view  of  eternity,  she  once  ex- 
pressed to  a  friend  her  apprehension,  that  the  work 
in  her  soul  had  not  been  genuine, — that  her  religion 
had  been  too  much  that  of  a  Pharisee.     Her  friend 

then  put  into  her  hand  the  Life  of  Miss  S , 

whose  experience  greatly  resembled  her  own,  and 
appeared  so  exactly  suited  to  the  exigency  of  her 
own  case,  that  she  derived  much  comfort  from  it, 
and  shortly  attained  such  a  degree  of  composure  in 
the  near  prospect  of  death,  as  to  be  able  to  say,  "  I 
am  now  perfectly  happy,  and  would  not  exchange' 
situations  with  any  one."  To  another  friend  she 
said,  "  I  have  had  a  sore  conflict,  but  all  is  peace 
now  !" 

She  became  so  ill  as  usually  to  be  unable  to  enter 
into  conversation.     At  intervals,  however,  she  ob- 


APPENDIX.  347 

tained  a  little  relief.  About  three  days  before  her 
death,  a  friend  called,  whom  she  requested  to  pray 
with  her,  and  then  to  repeat  one  of  her  favorite 
hymns — 

"  How  firm  a  foundation,  ye  saints  of  the  Lord,"  &c. 

She  appeared  to  dwell  with  delight  upon  every 
word,  and  repeated  with  great  animation  the  last 
couplet, 

"  That  soul,  though  all  hell  should  endeavor  to  shake, 
I  'II  never,  no  never,  no  never  forsake  !" 

On  parting  from  this  friend,  whom  she  was  to 
see  no  more  in  this  life,  she  sent  her  remembrances 
to  a  little  Christian  society  to  which  they  both 
belonged,  saying,  "  Sarah,  give  my  love  to  my  young 
Christian  friends,  and  say  to  them  that  I  hope  to  be 
the  first  to  hail  them  when  they  land  on  that  happy 
shore,  to  which  I  am  now  hastening." 

She  grew  rapidly  weaker,  but  still  retained  her 
senses,  and  her  peaceful  serenity  of  mind.  On 
Sunday  evening,  as  one  of  her  brothers  was  weep- 
ing over  her,  and  not  expecting  her  to  survive  the 
night,  she  said,  "  I  shall  see  you  again  in  the  body." 
Soon  after,  holding  the  hand  of  each  brother  in  her 
own,  she  said,  "  Oh !  that  I  could  tell  my  mother, 
when  we  meet,  that  you  are  all  coming  quickly 
after  me."  She  was  asked  if  she  had  any  message 
for  another  brother,  then  in  London.  She  answered, 
"  Tell  him  that  though  he  may  be  in  perfect  health 
at  present,  yet 


348  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

'  Short  is  our  longest  clay  of  life, 
And  soon  the  prospect  ends  ; 
Yet,  on  that  day's  uncertain  strife, 
Eternity  depends  !' " 

About  an  hour  before  her  death,  a  pious  lady 
called  to  see  her,  and  prayed  with  her.  She  was 
unable  to  converse,  but  her  friend  said,  "  My  love, 
I  do  not  wish  you  to  speak ;  but  if  you  are  able, 
tell  me,  by  holding  up  your  hand  whether  you  are 
quite  happy."  Immediately,  as  with  a  last  effort, 
she  raised  her  half-dead  arm  as  high  as  she  could. 
Shortly  after,  the  flickering  flame  of  life  rose  agrin, 
and  having  tasted  nothing  for  four  and  twenty 
hours,  she  asked  for  something  to  drink.  Her  sister 
brought  it  to  her,  when  she  put  her  arms  round  her 
neck,  and  said,  "Now  raise  me  up."  The  last 
struggle  of  nature  prompted  this  desire,  but  on  being 
moved,  her  agony  was  extreme,  and  she  cried  out, 
"  Oh  !  pray  that  I  may  be  suffered  to  go  now." 
Folding  her  hands  in  the  attitude  of  prayer,  she 
continued  for  about  three  minutes,  and  then  said, 
*'  I  want  breath  I — Hold  me  still !-— I  am  going — 
now  I"  and  sunk  into  her  sister's  arms,  a  corpse. 

She  had  desired  a  little  silver  purse,  being  the 
most  valuable  thing  of  the  kind  she  possessed,  to  be 
sent,  after  her  death,  to  Mr.  Richmond.  She  said, 
"  He  has  been  my  best  friend  on  earth, — I  wish  him 
to  keep  it  in  remembrance  of  me." 

The  following  letters  appear  to  have  been 
written  by  Mr.  Richmond  to  the  married  sister  of 
Lydia,  on  his  receiving  the  intelligence  of  her  death. 


APPENDIX.  349 

"  Turveij,  Feb.  26,  1825. 
"  DtAR  Christian  Frif:nd, 

"  I  am  much  obliged  by  your  affecting  intelli- 
gence. I  am  weeping  and  rejoicing  over  the  grave 
of  a  dear  and  glorified  son.  My  heart  is  sensibly 
affected  by  every  similar  case,  and  be  assured,  I 
have  not  forgotten  Lydia.  I  received  the  dear 
child's  letter  long  since,  and  thought  I  had  answered 
it.  Oblige  me  with  a  full  and  detailed  account  of 
all  you  remember  respecting  her,  from  the  earliest 
impression,  previous  to  my  first  sight  of  her.  De- 
scribe her  feelings,  progress,  backslidings,  recovery, 
and  whatever  you  think  most  interesting  and  valu- 
able relating  to  her,  accompanying  it  with  any 
remarks  of  your  own,  and  be  assured  that  I  shall 
receive  them  with  friendly  gratitude.  What  a 
change  !  from  earth  to  heaven  ;  from  sorrow  to  joy ; 
from  mortality  to  immortality  !  May  you  and  I 
experience  it  in  God's  own  time.  Give  my  Christian 
regards  to  your  father,  sisters,  and  family,  and  to 
your  husband.  Do  no  fear  to  write  at  full  length 
about  your  sister  Lydia,  and  believe  me, 
"Faithfully  yours, 

"  Legh  Richmond." 

''  September  28,  1825. 
'*  Dear  Christian  Friend, 

"  I  have  received  your  parcel  just  as  I  am  set- 
ting out  on  a  journey,  and  can  only  at  present 
give  a  hasty  reply  to  your  kind  communication, 
which  gives  me  much  satisfaction.     I  receive  these 


350  FAMILY    PORTRAITURE. 

tokens  of  esteem,  both  from  yourself  and  your  de- 
parted sister,  with  much  gratitude.  I  have  ni^ver 
ceased  to  think  of  her  with  Christian  regard,  for 
although  during  a  season  she  seemed  to  fall  back 
from  the  earlier  marks  of  converting  grace,  yet  the 
Lord  again  so  abundantly  owned  his  work,  that  we 
can  now  only  say,  ''  How  excellent  is  his  name  in 
all  the  earth."  She  died  but  a  short  time  after  my 
own  dear  son,  whose  memory  is  most  dear  to  me, 
— dear  beyond  my  powers  of  expression.  I  shall 
preserve  her  bequest  as  a  tender  memorial  of  her 
spiritual  regard.  I  thank  you  for  your  explanation 
relative  to  the  letter  written  some  years  since.  It 
is  quite  satisfactory  ;  you  did  perfectly  right  in  not 
allowing  it  to  be  inserted  in  any  printed  publication. 
1  should  by  no  means  consent  to  that.  The  cause 
of  Christ  prospers  much  in  this  place,  and  I  have 
reason  to  be  very  thankful.  I  am  under  apprehen- 
sion relative  to  the  reported  dangerous  illness  of  my 
eldest   son  in  India.     The   rest  of  my  family  are 

pretty  well.     I    hope   Mr.  W ,  whom    I    ever 

loved  affectionately  in  the  Lord,  is  better  than  he 
was  some  time  ago. 

"Your  friend  in  the  Lord, 

"  Legh  Richmond. 
"  Mrs.  B ." 

This  sister,  Mrs.  B ,  who  was  also  a  spiritual 

child  of  Mr.  Richmond,  died  in  the  faith,  on  the  21st 
of  April,  1826,  and,  as  her  father  remarks,  "would 
be  among  the  foremost  to  hail  his  arrival  on  the 
happy  shore."     Conjecture  would  be   useless  and 


APPENDIX.  351 

vain,  as  to  the  numbers  who,  similarly  blessed 
through  the  means  of  his  writings,  will  throng  to 
form  his  "crown  of  rejoicing"  in  the  great  day; 
but  nothing  can  be  more  certain  than  this,  that  he 
will  be  found  among  those  who  have  ''  turned  many 
to  righteousness,"  and  who  will  "  shine  as  the  stars 
forever  and  ever." 


THE    END. 


CATALOGUE    OF   BOOKS 


PUBLISHED    BY 


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the  Gospel." — TJte  Preacher. 

ABERCROMBIE— THE  CONTEST   AND  THE  ARMOR; 
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ADAMS— THE  THREE  DIVINE  SISTERS;  or.  Faith,  Hope, 
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ADVICE  XO   A   YOUNG   CHRISXIAN,  on  the  Im- 

portance  of  aiming  at  an  elevated  standard  of  piety.  By  a 
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before  it.'' — Portland  Christ.  Mirror. 

M  U  STR  A  L I  A—A  Na-rrative  of  the  Loss  of  the  Brig  Australia, 
by  Fire,  on  her  voyage  from  Leith  to  Sydney.  With  an  account 
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EXPOSITION  OF  PSALM   CXIX.,    as  IlUistrative  of   th«> 


Character  and  Exercises  of  Cliristian  Experience. 

MEMOIR    OF    MISS    MARY    JANE    GRAHAM,    late    of 

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WORKS.     Comprising  all  the  above  in  three  vols.  8vo. 

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THE    GREATNESS    OF    THE    SOUL,    AND    THE    UN- 

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CLARK— A  WALK  ABOUT  ZION.  Revised  and  enlarged. 
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DAVIS  — THE     SEAMAN     AND     BOATMAN'S     MANUAL. 

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